Noble Sun
by Piatot
Summary: Chapter 12, the final chapter - finally. Take off point is the end of 2x20 until 2x21 - what *hopefully* happened between our two heroines.
1. Chapter 1

Alicia means Noble (kind) and Kalinda means Sun when I searched for their names in baby books, therefore the title.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Good Wife – I just watch and giggle whenever she is in the scene. I am borrowing scenes and lines from the last four episodes (2x20 – 2x23) – therefore there are spoilers. I hope the product of what I have written is what transpired in the moments we weren't able to see.

I am a first time writer. I will appreciate your feedback. This will be a multi-chapter story, rated M for slash.

**Note:** Thanks to SSJL for encouraging me.

And my deepest, deepest gratitude to MirandaMinerva for holding my cyber hand while learning how to walk this fan fiction road, you have become my Obi Wan Kenobi. This is for you.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

She was never into melodrama. She could never understand the concept of walls closing in, of hyperventilation, of sliding behind closed doors as tremors violently course through the body. No, she had never experienced any of that, and this was the only thing that kept her from breaking down when she first learned the news.

* * *

><p>The man finally caught up with her. No matter how expertly she avoided him, he was still able to corner her at the overpopulated celebratory party for Peter. She should have anticipated it. Even someone dressed like a vagabond could slip unnoticed among the suits.<p>

She looks at him with overt sarcasm and a hint of disgust. Like a dog hounding passers-by for food and attention, he walks up to her refusing to be shut off.

"…Blake's testimonial…" his words cut in and out of her consciousness, "…he said that…"

She is preoccupied perfecting her facial expression so that the proper combination of irony, disbelief and boredom is conveyed.

"…Until I found out that there was not an employee by that name."

Alicia laughs sardonically and walks out, triumphant that this man has finally hit a steel wall. No more calls, no more stalking, no more forced niceties from her part.

Then she hears it – a name she once heard: a name that is now pounding on her ears, threatening to make her head explode.

_The name. The name._

The name is now following the cadence of her heels as she walks away. _Lee-la. Lee-la. Lee-la_ – becoming the very rhythm her heart beats into. _Lee-la. Lee-la. Lee-la._

And no matter how she wills it to stop, it just persists even more – sound and sense heightening until she can no longer hear and feel. All that's there is the constant spinning in her head – but no walls close in, no breath is quickened and no tremors course through her body. It is just her and the pounding and the spinning.

Until –

It stops. A light bulb flicks. A grin spreads.

A sense of calmness and a growing resolve – her calculated actions form in her head, like a soldier's map, locked and labeled with a dog tag in her mind.

* * *

><p>The tears, of course, cannot be avoided. She never held back or resented them. Like the waves of the ocean, she let them ebb and flow. They are, after all, just tears. Alicia knows that the occasional presence and the more frequent absence of tears are meaningless to her agenda. After all, she has taken care of the difficult part that dealt with her family – the loss of innocence, the unfounded accusations and the sowing of a perpetual grudge.<p>

Phase two commences with much worry and trepidation. She was never that good an actress to fake emotions. Of course, if one counts her legendary poker face in Peter's now infamous press conference, one would think that keeping an act is a walk in the park. But this – this requires a different kind of face. It is the kind that offers the difficulty of always being with emotions – emotions that are not only inexistent, but the complete opposite of the reality she is living.

She wakes up that morning with renewed vigor (and somehow a muted sense of dread) that she almost jumps out of bed. There's a rhythm playing in her head – a series of tasks repeatedly recited like a mantra. Her actions start giving off a certain level of musicality, one that comes from the predictability of pace.

It starts with the soft squeak of shower knobs turning followed by the rush of water drops and the varying sound they make as each drop falls onto different surfaces.

She smiles as the water wakes her up.

_So much better than coffee_, she thinks to herself. The sensuality of the gentle dripping of water on her body arouses her as she imagines what her plan can lead to.

_Better enjoy it too_, she muses. _But not now – not yet._

She hurriedly finishes her bath and silently resumes the recitation of her mantra. After a few laborious minutes spent in her morning routine of making herself smell and look professional, (with undertones of worldliness) she emerges from her bedroom appearing confident. Inside, she's still shaking – from doubt, from residual trauma and from disbelief.

_I am really going to do this._

Squaring her shoulders, she walks out the door and into the closing elevator in a span of seconds.

* * *

><p>She arrives at Lockhart Gardner disoriented.<p>

Being consumed by thoughts and then forcibly pried out of that reverie by lack of sensory stimulation results in a twilight zone experience. She makes a mental note of it. The monochromatic three-piece suits that flock the equally colorless building where the offices are located drown her senses with dreariness. The unidirectional and monotonous flow of professionals going in the gleaming glass doors of the building reminds Alicia of the Stepford wives – only these are Stepford lawyers, accountants, businesspeople etcetera etcetera.

She quickly snaps back to reality as soon as she sees the lacquered walls of the office. The smell of ink drying on paper grounds her senses to the present.

"The report you asked for last week has been amended," says her assistant. "It's on your desk."

"Thanks, Courtney. I'll review it." And with a few words, together with the speedy click clack of Alicia's stilettos, her plan fogs into the background of her consciousness. A week ago, she was involved in a lawsuit that had a tyrant involved. She asked her assistant to do the documentation of the case, and the initial draft was lacking some important information about translation and languaging. She now has the task of rereading a 50-page document and checking not only for completion but accuracy.

At the end of the week, she recovers from her temporary amnesia – and it is by accident that she remembers what she is supposed to do.

Alicia wanted to ask Will a very important question about the deposition and her feet carried the evidence of her rush. Through the glass door of his office, she sees_ her_ talking to him, stance clearly indicating the seriousness of their discussion. She freezes on the spot, disorientation taking over once more.

She knows she is supposed to feel awkward about Kalinda being around, and she does. But why – she can't seem to point out just what it was.

Kalinda walks out of Will's office at the same time she turns around to finish her task.

"Hey." Kalinda greets her with a cheerfulness that is solely hers – cheerful but not quite.

"Hello," Alicia calls back, teeth ground together in a forced grin.

"Hello. Everything alright?"

"Yep," Alicia's smile is plastered on her face. She knows she is looking more and more like a fool by the second. "Gotta get to – work."

They both nod at each other politely, determined to keep their hours at work doing exactly what they are supposed to do. In the past, they both knew that however little time they had to exchange small talk inside the office, they could always make up for—during their after-work tequila shots.

And that is the only reason Alicia can breathe a sigh of relief – she knows her secret is safe. She can continue with her plan. As she watches Kalinda walk away, her memory comes back full force. Once again, her mantra begins and she swears she will never allow herself to get sidetracked ever again.

She is going to have what Peter had.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:** I feel that I need to add more – yeah, I don't own Kalinda and Alicia and the Good Wife. I don't make money out of this. No copyright infringement intended, and all that jazz.

**NOTE:** Many thanks to my non-writer friend, Nik, who has endured my ceaseless calls (even in the wee hours of the night) just so I can pick her brains about plot decisions.

For Barbarossa Rotbart, Dragonwingz76, grimlock78, Emmi Catharina, Reggieme, TheComet63, tenearthimps, Jits – thank you all for reading my story. This is for you guys.

And again, MirandaMinerva, you know I am eternally grateful!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Nothing had ever made Kalinda frightened; her confidence was as sure and true as the rotation of the earth on its axis causing night and day. Once upon a time, she almost kissed the barrel of a gun (and her life goodbye) without batting an eyelash. Had she been placed on a polygraph then, the tracing would not have shown a hint of worry.

That is why Kalinda is rattled that a dream can now unhinge her so much.

Last night, she dreamt about beautiful and fragile Alicia. Unlike her usual dreams that end up dampening her underpants, this came close to what most would consider a nightmare – but not quite for her.

In her dream, Alicia was wearing a gray suit with white piping and a look that was mostly intent but with undertones of seduction. Just when she was about to close the distance between their lips, Alicia whispered.

_I know your secret, Leela. You slept with my husband. _

Alicia's smirk widened until her face was enveloped by it. Her form disintegrated into a million particles; the force sending Kalinda spiraling into nothingness.

She woke up bathed in sweat that morning.

In her breakfast coffee, she could taste the regret of having done the deed. At that time, it seemed insignificant as she had slept casually with other people for reasons she couldn't quite rationalize. She didn't know that the one thing she could account for would be the one thing that'd break her.

She threw the remaining coffee into the sink sloppily and proceeded to get dressed. As she zipped her boots up, she prayed to the gods she used to never believe in that she could hide the secret along with the disappearance of her skin into the leather.

* * *

><p>Work temporarily brought back her swagger as she tried to pry information from an infatuated nurse.<p>

_Maybe I am exaggerating. Maybe I am just becoming a worrywart._

A small sigh escapes from her lips as she enters her office. The lack of clutter and the almost-sterile look of her (im)personal space bothers her more. Perhaps it is the lack of visual distractions that makes her remember her short encounter with Alicia.

She slumps onto her chair and winces – both from the searing pain of having sat on a stray pen and the memory of the cold shoulder Alicia gave her earlier.

_Or maybe I am not exaggerating._

Shifting to her side to remove the pen poking at her behind, she almost jumps as she sees in her periphery, Alicia's well-made-up face peeping in her office. Like some sort of apparition, the strength of mind summoning the object of concentration, the woman looks at her not recognizing the surprise the sudden presence caused.

Kalinda raises her perfectly sculpted eyebrows in muted curiosity.

"Tequila after work?"

_Maybe I am just exaggerating._ She tilts her head carefully, studying the air that hung about Alicia's mouth, as though she can assess the sincerity of the invitation.

"Having a tough day?" she opts to ask instead.

The answer did not come instantly. There was first a weighing of the question apparent in the shifting of Alicia's eyes sideways for three even breaths.

"Somewhat," is the answer that came.

"Sure. I just need to wrap up something first…"

"I'll meet you there," Alicia cuts her off with a mixture of relief and surreptitious dismissal. She gives Kalinda a bright smile before she turns around and says, "Gotta get back to work," voice trailing off.

Kalinda is now smiling, quite assured for the moment.

_I WAS exaggerating._

The rest of the day continued without a hitch.

* * *

><p>There are perhaps a dozen pubs in the area, but they have always frequented one in particular. Perhaps it is because the place is well-lit. Perhaps because it has become less populated in the course of their friendship, making it more conducive to private conversations about their cases. They used to joke that they brought a curse with them so the pub can be their second office.<p>

They both took their joke seriously: they have, no matter how much they deny, made up for the lack of customers in their almost-daily visits and the six-or-more shots they always have.

Kalinda walks in, quite proud that she is only thirty minutes late. Less than an hour ago, Alicia knocked at her office saying she was leaving. "The usual," was all the instruction Alicia could afford to leave as she was talking to someone over the phone. Kalinda nodded her agreement, respectful of whatever conversation Alicia was having.

"Tough day indeed," Kalinda quips as she walks up to Alicia. She sees the three empty shot glasses in front of Alicia, and three full ones, quite possibly waiting for her.

"You have to make up for lost… time," Alicia points towards the glasses.

"Have plans of killing me?"

"That's the idea," Alicia's smile caused the cocoons inside Kalinda's stomach to metamorphose into restless butterflies flitting excitedly as the suggestion of the remark (made perhaps because of the alcohol the other woman consumed or her own overactive imagination) sinks in.

She reaches out for the first shot and downs it with one courageous gulp. She quickly follows it up with the second one, intent on making the butterflies drunk, so she can function once more.

"You want to die tonight." Alicia observes, following her previous allusion.

"No," she removes the lime from her mouth. "Just thirsty."

"Ah. Then maybe you need something to wet your throat."

The butterflies flutter with more energy. She reaches for her third shot and signals the bartender for two more before she downs the liquor. The burning in her mouth and the trail it left in its aftermath keep her from falling off her seat, as she is enveloped by the first hint of drunkenness.

"Careful there. I don't want you dead. Not tonight."

She coughs as the juice from the second lime she's sucking dry goes down wrong.

"I thought you wanted me dead," she smiles to herself. "I just made up for lost time," she sniffs as she turns to Alicia. "So, how was court? Will asked me to dig deeper into the good doctor's record – did you find the information useful?" She shifts to the case they have just wrapped up. Thanks to Alicia's observant eye (which she probably took from Kalinda), they discovered inconsistencies about the manner in which the doctor grants organ donation recommendation and approval. Although it began as a hunch, it was strengthened by Kalinda's discovery that the same doctor orders radiographic scans more than once on patients he refused for organ transplantation.

This, of course, is a relatively trivial conversation – the most accessible topic Kalinda can shift to, so as to avoid being inebriated before nine. She knows, if the conversation continues the way it started, she'd be digging and subsequently, burying herself in a hole deep enough to entomb the entire area 51 secrets in. She also knows that Alicia will not be able to resist talking about the case.

She was right. They talked for two straight hours with just four more shots each sans the revival of the butterflies now silently sleeping in her stomach.

A joke cracked later on, and she breaks into a coughing fit as a few drops of tequila (once again) went down the wrong way. Kalinda laughs and coughs, taken completely by the torture of not being able to truly enjoy the joke and the spasm in her trachea. Spittle dribbling at the side of her mouth, she takes a few calming breaths to clear her airway.

As she turns to Alicia, she feels the other woman's hand cupping her chin, thumb lightly swiping her saliva away.

Swipe turning into a caress, Alicia resumes the talk, "I told you, I don't want you to die yet." Her hand lingers on her face much beyond the friendly few seconds.

The butterflies stir afresh.

* * *

><p>Three more shots consumed in thirty minutes (a single one for Alicia) and she walks out of the pub with unsteady legs. A cab passed by, but in her state, her reflexes aren't quick enough to hail it.<p>

The street is empty, save for a couple of cars parked strategically under lampposts, effectively dimming most parts of 9th street. She lets her eyes adjust – the stark contrast of the well-lit bar against the darkness of the outside disorients her.

Her confusion grows as she feels Alicia's hand grabbing her arm. She almost loses her balance as she is turned sharply towards the demanding pull. The only thing that breaks her fall is the soft lips that hungrily meet hers. If it were not for the slight pressure (and suction) coming from the other's mouth, she would've dismissed it as an awkward accident.

She knows it is not the tequila that commands her. In a heartbeat, she abandons any reasonable argument with herself before it even starts. All she is aware of is the spinning in her head punctuated by the awakening of the butterflies in her stomach. The experience is beyond impossible, but she meets Alicia's lips nonetheless. The passion with which her lips and mouth are crashing down on the well-kissed woman rouse the gods – such intensity is reserved only for creation.

The older woman's mouth opens as she deepens the kiss. Euphoria takes over as she feels the quickening of breath and hears the escaping of stifled moans from the person she is assaulting with the sweetest kisses. The headiness heightens as she feels Alicia pulling her closer as though it were possible with their clothes on. Her balance wavers as the taller woman clings to her for dear life, or desire for satisfaction.

Her tongue darts about Alicia's mouth, each flick becomes a silent prayer that is balancing between a plea to stop before she loses it and an encouragement to not stop so that she _does_ lose it. The seesaw tilts dangerously close to the latter as she feels the other woman's legs parting followed by an incredibly hot center rubbing the length of her upper thigh. The initially barely discernable dampness gradually increases as the slithering and gyrating become more rhythmical. Her hands start to dance on Alicia's midsection, fingers playing the ivories of the woman's abdomen in a song that matches the cadence of the other woman's movements.

This was the wetness that would've quenched her thirst earlier.

Or maybe, it wouldn't have.

In a split-second, it all stops. Her consciousness is greeted by the sight of Alicia panting, head down, eyes not meeting hers.

The then-aggressive one straightens up and walks away, steps faltering as she walks to the edge of the pavement. As if on cue, a cab stops at the appearance of Alicia's outstretched arm. The woman opens the door and looks at her one last time, expression unreadable, face shadowed by both dark and drunkenness.

Alicia's head disappears into the cab – but not until Kalinda sees the confused but sensual way the other woman bites her lips.

* * *

><p>She should have known that the grayish suit with white piping that first appeared in her dream was an omen; but because of what had transpired hours before the official dawning of the weekend, she failed to put it into perspective.<p>

Saturday and Sunday came and went for Kalinda. Weekends usually meant relaxing with her favorite drink (espresso in mornings, carrot juice in the afternoon and Stella Artois in the evenings) while reading a book. Sometimes, it meant going out on a date (and if the date's really attractive – getting laid). Lately, she has hit a monsoon season in terms of dating. She isn't complaining though, lest she jinxes it and a dry spell ensues.

Complaints or not, her mind and body synchronously shut down their systems dedicated to sex and attraction. All it needed was one kiss (or was it just one?) from one Alicia Florrick, and she became impotent for and to everyone else.

Her weekend was a collective set of hours spent staring into nothingness, still with her favorite drink on hand – although her nighttime drink spilled into mornings and afternoons too. Each swig she took was a petal plucked from a flower while reciting, "She loves me; she loves me not."

Every time she didn't (and even if she did) get the sentence she wanted to hear, she'd crack a fresh bottle and resume her childish game with fate. Sometimes, she replaced it (for variety) with a Hamlet-like declaration of, "to call or not to call."

The hours she spent contemplating those lines and nursing the bottles of beer were much more than the actual hours she spent sleeping. Perhaps it was the lack of Alicia's presence in her dreams that made her take sleep for granted.

The make out session, the inner debate that went on over the weekend, and the lack of sleep were more than enough to be nescient to the ominous appearance of the wardrobe she had an almost-nightmare about.

Alicia barely looked at her upon entering the boardroom. Kalinda can't blame her – she knows she should have followed the cab that night. She knows that because she let that night end in question, she should've called or visited over the weekend.

But it was the lack of agenda that prevented her.

If she had followed the cab, what would she have done upon reaching Alicia's apartment, where her family was waiting? If she had visited over the weekend, what would she have felt about intruding upon a peaceful family time?

She would never know the answer to that. She failed to seize the moment; and the proverbial moment has passed.

Her agenda still wasn't spelled out when she entered Mrs. Florrick's office. She knew, upon crossing the threshold that she wanted to talk to her. Just talk and make sure everything was fine.

While thinking of the best way to begin the conversation and to segue (or not) to last Friday's event, her phone rang.

_Cary._

She totally forgot about the cold case they were supposed to be working on.

She answers the phone lazily. She'd rather be left to her own thoughts. A few seconds pass by, with her half-listening to Cary's updates. She knows she will need to ask Cary to repeat everything he is saying – she really can't concentrate. Her body snaps to attention as she hears the clacking of stilettos that can only be her muse's. She smiles inwardly as she admits to herself that she has memorized the inexperienced-with-killer-heels-but-still-sexy-as-hell cadence of Alicia's footsteps.

She quickly wraps up the call just when Mrs. Florrick's form enters the room.

"That was Cary. There's this cold case, we're gonna stay in touch," she sits in the chair beside the desk. "So, what's up?"

Nothing, of the myriad adventures (and misadventures) Kalinda had, could ever prepare her for what came next.

"No, Kalinda, No." Alicia starts out, a hint of anger in her voice.

"What?"

"We both work here. We're both going to continue working here, so let's not talk."

Kalinda's mind goes blank. This is beyond the awkward kiss that the speaker herself initiated.

_I know I should have stopped it, I know I should have. But I couldn't. I should tell her. I should tell her. _

Instead, "I shall…" comes out of her lips.

_Coward. I should have told her._

Her eyes are starting to redden, tears threatening to flow.

"No, you don't explain anything … you do not put a single thing in context… You slept with my husband." Alicia whispers – anguish coming out in small puffs together with her contained sobs.

Stereotypical images drawn about secrets being exposed have basis in reality, because everything that has ever been written about being caught lying is what Kalinda is feeling right at that moment.

Her blood ran cold as the feeling of ice water being poured onto her takes over. Her stomach plummets from the office floor of Lockhart Gardner to the ground. Her heart stilled for an even minute. Her face mirrored the pale ash color of Alicia's suit.

She wants to explain, to say something, but the web in her mind and sand in her throat prevent her from speaking.

Her eyes start to sting as she hears Alicia's withheld sobs; the pain she's already feeling from being found out (and just after a beautiful moment, nonetheless) is intensified as she realizes that she is the cause of it.

"… I s-s-swear I will scream at the top of my lungs… if… you don't get out of my office now."

Kalinda slides her phone into her notebook and picks up her stuff with shaking hands. She walks out of Mrs. Florrick's office, maybe – but hopefully not – for the last time. She staggers, hands almost outstretched, desperately trying to hold onto something… something solid that she can temporarily wrap her mind onto.

She enters the elevator praying that nobody goes in with her.

Maybe she should have prayed, should have prayed harder that her secret won't be revealed – because it took only that to grant her wish to be alone for her elevator ride.

The tears flow freely, gravity pulling and milking them faster and harder as she descends to the basement.

Each floor, a glassful of tears.

Each glassful, a toast to seal the pact of self-preservation.

She arrives at the basement drunk, numb with sorrow.

She envies people who have nightmares. They will always wake up from them.

She never will.


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE:** Thank you so much for all those who have subscribed to the story, for leaving feedback and for your encouragements.

Thanks for the new ones who have read my story (from Chapter 2) Soiske06, Crispy75, LB65, upriserseven and again, Comet63—thank you thank you thank you!

And MirandaMinerva—you know I will always thank you.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Alicia has always thought that completing what one has set herself (or himself) to do brings peace of mind. She is now absorbed in finding out why her mind is full, not with the recent case they are handling (she placed second chair to Will in defending a woman running a website for cheating spouses), but with what has transpired between her and her best friend. Her EX best friend, Kalinda.

Inside the cab (and thank goodness she took a cab, if not, she wouldn't have noticed a cyclist zooming past them, the handle bar of the bike barely an inch away from the window), she allowed her mind to drift to what it decided to be most pressing.

She read somewhere – or was that from a meditation workshop she had attended after she gave birth to Grace – anyway, she read somewhere that the best way to handle an obsessive thought is to allow it to be in the space it is in.

Immediately, her mind drifts to Friday night's almost way-past afternoon delight.

"Oh God," she didn't mean to let those words come out of her mouth, but her body, agreeing with the reflexive utterance of an almost-blasphemous slang, jerks, hands flying to cover her eyes.

The cab driver looks at her curiously for a few seconds, shakes his head then ignores her.

Lately, she has been losing control of her bodily functions. It seems that it is inclined on doing the opposite of what she has resolved to initially do.

It started last Friday – and like a Pavlovian twitch, her face scrunches up at the thought of that supposedly harmless and meaningless day of the week. That day, her scheme was laid out. A blueprint that mapped out her course of action was completed the night before.

Alicia was going to ask her out for their usual drinks. The woman would be clueless at first, but she will flirt mercilessly to pave the way for her sweet, sweet revenge.

Everything went according to plan. She surprised herself for being able to flirt without stuttering, all thanks to her pre-loaded tequila shots. Kalinda also surprised her. She was counting on someone who'd be a good sport and play with her. Instead, the girl just drank herself almost to death, speaking only to talk about the case. Maybe it was guilt for putting Kalinda in an awkward situation, but she allowed herself to get sidetracked by their conversations about work.

The kiss outside the bar was foreplay – the prelude to the culmination of her revenge. Blood wasn't supposed to rush to her head like that. Her heart was to remain at a steady and predictable pace – instead, it started hammering as soon as their lips met. The paragon of control that was Alicia shattered beneath the touch and gentle coaxing of Kalinda.

Maybe it was a cosmic, karmic working – she was losing her battle with her rational self. She chose to abandon her plan.

She was supposed to be on top of it, to be above the inevitable carnal call of intimacy – but because her body took over and her mind temporarily crashed, she had to fall back.

She also knew that she must take the necessary steps to ensure that she didn't lose it ever again. To avoid the risk, she pulled the plug on her plan, and consequently, their friendship.

Like an insidious disease, memories of Kalinda and her masterful kissing creep into her senses. Her eyes become clouded with something she denies with all her might.

At that instant, the cab pulls over at her apartment complex, fortuitously bringing her back to present.

* * *

><p>The feeling is disturbing: two bodies behaving differently from one another.<p>

Somewhere, a superficially calm and collected Alicia is talking to Kalinda, telling her "no," and a post script that can be summarized as an open agreement to maintain a strictly professional relationship.

_In a parallel universe, Alicia is tossing and turning, sweat breaking in uneven bursts. _

The calm quakes and shatters as Alicia violently hiccups the accusation: "You slept with my husband." Kalinda, unfazed, shrugs and turns away.

The bodies still disagree – the sleeping making up for the dreaming's absence of sweat.

"Come back! Come back here, this instant, I'm not done with you," her whispers turn into hysterical cries. Kalinda turns around and grins at her, teeth giving off a sinister glint. She regards the panting, visibly upset woman with one eyebrow cocked, turns around and throws back her head in raucous laughter.

Alicia screams at the top of her lungs, fury piercing ears and studding them with stainless bolts. Kalinda hears nothing of this, despite the agonizing sound waves enveloping the entire Lockhart-Gardner floor. Alicia chases after Kalinda, rage refusing to be ignored. She runs continuously, laboriously, at times almost catching the woman cackling in sickening glee.

A pop, and Alicia is falling, falling hard.

The two bodies break out in unified sweats, soaking the sheets in consequence.

Alicia's eyes open. She sees the ceiling blanketed with sleep. She gets up and staggers towards the bathroom, sobs accompanying her.

_It meant nothing to her. The ki—our friendship_, she corrects herself.

She looks at herself in the mirror and reminds herself that it was all a bad dream. She comforts (and secretly blames) herself for the death of their friendship.

When it is all over, she washes her face. She opens her medicine cabinet and pops a Valium into her mouth, drowning it with one determined gulp. She goes back to bed with fresh tears trickling down her face.

A few minutes later, she collapses into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>The next few weeks were something to be thankful for. It wasn't because the nightmares stopped, there was just very little time for it. Last week, the case she second-chaired resulted in a win, albeit it didn't turn out the way they had hoped.<p>

This time last week, Alicia was preparing to cross-examine the plaintiff, a woman who claimed to believe in her husband unequivocally. Her questioning successfully brought doubt in the minds of the jurors, though she knew it wasn't even half the battle.

That same day, she took on the task of preparing her client to be placed on the stand. It was poor judgment on her part, as it began the rousing of her (nightmarish) desires. She would kick herself for allowing the client's speech to affect her – but the images evoked in her mind were clear as day. She would continue to stifle the bubbling images until she found a plausible distraction.

"I don't get it," Alicia began exasperatedly.

The conversation was meant to understand the polygamous nature of men. She wasn't even close to reaching an internal compromise to begin listening to the idea, when the client switches something on.

"Aren't there men you look at?"

_I used to… but now, there's just a wo -_

"And you just watch them? In a Starbucks line, opening a door, tying their shoes… and you just wanna grab their hand then slide it up to the small of your back…"

It was a command, she knew. Almost like a spell, it activated images she had been struggling to strangle. Without reason or control, images of Kalinda (once again) flash by. Sensual images of her hand lightly holding a shot glass… the same hand wiping the corners of her mouth after a rapid and almost careless swig… the hand touching her own while laughing at a shared joke – it was all it took for the memory of the kiss to emerge. The kiss, the rush of breath (of whose, it was indeterminable), the mixture of air, heat and moisture that no one and yet both of them radiated; goose bumps started crawling in sensual awakening.

The oxygen in the room was Kalinda's fingers and mouth and tongue assailing her to extreme helplessness.

"Or feel the touch of someone else's lips on your skin? The taste of someone else's tongue…? The pleasure of someone else's orgasm…? Don't you want that?"

Alicia looked down, fear and excitement creeping – the client might see the lust in her eyes as fabricated memories of that night came in. And it was all of Kalinda – her naked body pressing onto Alicia as both of them ride each other out, rocking to the beat of their breaths, sweat making each other wetter, and more in need of each other, moans harmoniously coming together like an unknown songbird of the night.

It was at that moment that she forced herself to pull herself together and find a distraction – quickly. She should have planned carefully, this unforeseeable complication needed to be harnessed and soon.

As she arrived home, she pulled out the magazine she kept for the sole purpose of teasing _him_. She purposely turned the page to most eligible bachelor number 16 – in front of her was an 8.5" x 11" representation of a viable distraction.

* * *

><p>The next day, she allowed herself the possibility of starting something with Will. From across the room, she studied him with the intensity reserved for willing to be caught, for a romantic moment, for an eye contact that would hopefully cause a spark in a place currently occupied by one Kalinda Sharma.<p>

He was oblivious to her: stapled sheets of testimonies that would rival the Iliad and the Odyssey combined preoccupied him.

But she was persistent, bargaining for something, anything that would change the course of her wayward leanings.

Her eyes refocused anew, pupils dilated to clearly communicate a command to be noticed. For a few seconds, her mind drifted to her own moment of abandon with the woman who expertly turned her buttons and switches on. She distilled the stirrings in her belly so that only the feeling remained; her eyes flashed, feral ferocity fanning her lashes, giving them the extra curl and weight for flirtation.

It didn't fail her.

He looked up, eyes choosing to convey a neutral, innocent stance. His lips followed, a whisper of the letters associated to being alright escaped from his mouth.

A smile.

A nod.

A look.

And nostalgia cracked the egg of day.

* * *

><p>A single fissure brought about by the diversion known as Will Gardner wasn't enough to make Alicia at ease in the presence of Kalinda. The few feet that separated them still pulsed with desire left unfulfilled.<p>

Kalinda remained cool, and she, defensive – after all, anger was the easiest emotion to access given the innumerable incidents of the past year, and the icing-on-the-cake incident that involved her husband and her ex-best friend. This line of feeling also made avoiding Kalinda's eye justifiable and integral to the act.

This didn't mean that she was unaware of Kalinda's eye bags growing and drooping by the day. At a few unannounced minutes of each day, her heart softens at the thought of the investigator losing sleep over her. But because she had to keep her distance, she made a mountain of righteousness out of what really was a molehill of hurt for being betrayed. The thoughts of her turning soft stop as fear of the unfamiliar feelings she has for Kalinda travels through her whole body, settling in two of the places that perturbed her most: her chest (directly where her heart lay) and her groin.

Thankfully, she could always count on Jackie to provide her plate full. A conversation with her, and afterwards, with Will quieted her thoughts. He was always thoughtful. Maybe they could hang out more often – to effectively fill the space Kalinda left.

"I am here," he assures Alicia.

The door opening announces the interruption.

"Oh, Kalinda, good. I want you to prep Alicia for the questioning of Dana tomorrow. Thanks." And with that, Will leaves her to her own ghost(s).

_So much for being here. _

She switches what has become her auto pilot anger on.

* * *

><p>The awkwardness in the room is so palpable that the usually warm glow of the incandescent pin lights in the boardroom is replaced by an overcast of thoughts unprocessed.<p>

More affected is Kalinda, or at least it seems that way to Alicia. She knows that she has blown the anger out of proportion. She now admits that she is hurt that Kalinda kept the secret that long. But a part of her understands the fear of unleashing the fierceness of truth. She is hurt, but she is also infatuated – her truth she fears to unleash.

From the look of defeat issued by Kalinda, she knows that her secret can die with her. But it was the same look that is piercing her heart, making her slip, so many times, into rushing to Kalinda's side for an embrace that will lock the past in an empty chest to be kept alongside treasures that have been discovered before. Tears tickle the corners of her eyes as she stubbornly wielded the longing for Kalinda so as to transform it into a weapon that will further her self-preservation.

Everything from that point on is a contribution to the inflatable balloon of hurt she works on to keep afloat.

That and her ceaseless scribbling work to her advantage.

Kalinda notices her lack of attention and asks her, "You want me to get somebody else to brief you?" The investigator tries to maintain an impassive demeanor, but the slight crack in her voice betrays her.

Conversations were inevitable, and Alicia has plenty of ammunition to deny the conversation they should be having.

Therefore, "You mean someone who hasn't slept with my husband?"

Kalinda's expression quakes, her eyes sparkle even more with tears she doesn't try to hold.

A crushing pain in Alicia's heart makes her squeeze her pen tighter.

"Yes, you're in pain, Alicia. I hurt you. Now do you wanna know the facts?"

"Of what?"

"I slept with him once. Now, I do that, it means nothing to me… but I do that…"

Alicia blinks rapidly, eyes moving away from the speaker, her heart being crushed by a different kind of hurt.

_How could I forget? This is Kalinda. If Friday night happened, it would have perhaps been special to me. But for her…_

Kalinda's words echo in her mind: _I do that._

Alicia huffs absently, the rest of Kalinda's words drown in bitter conclusion that she would've been just another… _that_.

Until –

"I liked you…"

Alicia looks up, (foolish) hope softening her face. Once more, Kalinda's words disappear behind the curtain of dreaming taking over Alicia's mind.

_Could I have been different?_

But before she answers her own question, she shakes it off, her fear giving her the courage to stand her ground.

"Every step of the way you just looked at me… and you knew…"

Alicia no longer knows what she is talking about and where the words are coming from. It was that Friday. _She knew I could've just been a casual dalliance._ That she started it because of her desire to get even doesn't matter. Now she is more than just infatuated, the hurt deepens.

"Yes."

A knife slices through her chest. She aches to stab and slice as well.

"And I am an idiot. I never once thought you were my friend out of some guilt, out of some guilty welfare for poor little me."

They were after all, originally, friends – and the use of that word seems to be a good choice to hurt.

But –

"That's not why…"

A sliver of hope, then,

"I don't have a… friends. You were a friend"

Alicia lets out a sarcastic sigh.

_So that's what's it's going to be?_

"And you lied to me. You said that's not true about being with him"

"Yes… I'm sorry."

Alicia lets out an exasperated sigh. An apology isn't enough. An apology isn't what she expected.

"Oh, okay, thanks… Now that we've cleared that up…"

It isn't what she wanted!

Hurt overtakes her system. It is coming from geysers inside her heart that are her own doing. That she schemed about someone she potentially had feelings for; That Kalinda is, was such an experienced lover, she lost at her own game; That she is more than infatuated over someone who could have hurt her more because of her regard for intimacy; That Kalinda did that to her husband and she is left wanting.

Whatever accusation, argument she can use, she grabs.

She grabs and stabs and slices, willing to hurt more than she is hurting.

"I'm… I found another job and I'm leaving next week."

"Good," she hisses, mouth sizzling with caustic fury.

She has to hurt.

She has to.

* * *

><p>Sleep doesn't come to her until her now-nightly Valium kicks in.<p>

Her waking hours are torturous, Kalinda-infested clockwork, their latest conversation playing with increasing regularity.

That Kalinda is leaving adds to the list of stimuli that disquiets her mind.

That a new case has come in is a relief. That this new case is the first case without Kalinda is a tragedy.

That morning the whole of Lockhart Gardner congregated in the boardroom for the briefing is unassuming. The case is high-profile and it requires everyone to devote whatever time they could spare into helping out with the case.

Seeing _her_ makes Alicia jump out of her own skin, but she meets Kalinda's challenging stare squarely. She breaks off the eye contact and summons a reaction that will not come.

It is trouble –

- but a trouble necessary for her survival, nonetheless.

It will take so much more, but Alicia will never admit to the fact that her heart pounded so violently at the site of its master.

No, she hadn't admitted to infatuation.

Why now, should she admit to love?


	4. Chapter 4

I am sorry that it took forever to continue. This is for all of you: those who sent your kudos, your comments; those who subscribed. Yes, the following chapters are coming in faster than *hopefully* the 25th.

I pray it is oracular… if not, I have lived the delusion, and that leaves me satisfied.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

She needed a laugh. That was why when the familiar, gentle beginnings of spasms in her belly began; she didn't hesitate to ride the tide of hilarity – the laughter, punctuated by a snort.

It wasn't really a joke worthy of her hearty guffaw, but the irony of fate's non-intervention had to be appreciated.

A few days ago, she had an upsetting encounter with Alicia (who is now fast becoming the shrew Shakespeare wrote about). Her apologetic stance, her actual sorry didn't seem to be enough. The cold shoulder was difficult enough to handle, but the combative demeanor was beyond unbearable. No matter how much she tried to understand that Alicia was hurt, her own pain gnaws on her patience. She could only bear so much rejection from someone she loved as a friend for (what for her was) a long time, and has come to be in love with along the way.

The friendship, she thought was unsalvageable, not so much because it had endured a test no friendship before had ever survived. Kalinda couldn't be bothered. Her selfishness is kicking into high gear. She wants Alicia, and not as a friend.

Her decision to leave Lockhart-Gardner seemed to have been righted after the conversation and subsequent rejection by Alicia.

It was for the same reason that she found what Sophia said to be hilarious.

"…I want you to be my top dog over there."

The joke started there.

"I guess that's funny…?"

"With Peter Florrick?" Kalinda couldn't believe it.

"Yes, he's the new states attorney. He's bringing everyone back," Sophia answered sarcastically.

_Fuck. I'm stuck._

The waves of laughter rolled off in tsunami proportions.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Kalinda wakes up from a dreamless sleep. Her smile creeps up with the concurrent swelling of her old swagger.<p>

The previous night, she took Sophia out for drinks. Not that she was guilty… she just wanted to make up for changing her mind about joining her team. Having been a private investigator for quite sometime made Kalinda wiser in her dealings. She knows when to sever ties and when to nurture a symbiotic relationship. Her association with Sophia fell within the realm of the latter, and so she knows how to compose herself accordingly.

That night the tequila shots (aptly chosen to cover up memories of after-work drinks with Alicia) turned into body shots, with the two of them having so much fun. The good news was that Sophia was quick in forgiving her, after the first taste of skin. The bad news was that Sophia wanted more and Kalinda just was not in the mood. Surely, the men in the bar were getting off at seeing the two of them licking each other's body parts (it began with the exposed, easily-accessible ones, and later moved on towards the areas where buttons needed to be undone or garments that required hitching) and ending in near-French kissing as lime wedges were retrieved from each other's mouth.

What Kalinda didn't understand was why it wasn't turning her on. Scratch that. She actually has an idea on who was to blame, but she just doused the thought with more tequila.

Towards the end of her non-date, Sophia was three sheets to the wind, and was no longer in the mood to do the nasty. She was concentrating on walking without tipping over as Kalinda watched her stumbling ahead.

Once they reached the streets and had successfully hailed a cab, Sophia turned to her, giddy with alcohol.

"I'll make it up to you next time, lover girl." She gave Kalinda a careless smack on the lips, and entered the cab.

Kalinda just smiled a shook her head.

She walked away thanking the universe for her narrow escape.

* * *

><p>And it was because of last night's sensual awakening that Kalinda regained the rhythm in her step. (That, or perhaps it was the power woman playlist in her iPod that did the trick: playing from the time she woke up until she pulled into her usual parking space.)<p>

Will, she gathered, was pleasantly surprised by her revelation. She knew that she was, still is, considered a valuable asset in Lockhart-Gardner – it became obvious during the whole Blake fiasco. It was a twitch of Will's attention, but she noticed it nevertheless. It gave her a sense of well-being that easily faded. The feeling wasn't quite the same sense of satisfaction she got when she was with Alicia. But a twitch, it was – and for a split second, she felt good.

It wasn't like she was _not _secretly pleased by fate weaving its fickle threads to come up with an ironic end to the melodrama Kalinda was in – she was, she _is_ almost over the moon by the turn of events. She also knew the difficulties that lay ahead. Be that as it may, she welcomed what was to come and regarded Will's muted satisfaction as a good omen.

The evaporation of the sense of unrest did not come out easy. Will's little speech about his conjectures for her reason for leaving was spot-on. She decided to leave to prevent complications with Alicia. She was burned by her choice not just to trust but to love.

She was still blaming herself for letting her guard down. Thankfully, she now knows better. All thanks to Sophia; Kalinda was reminded of how easy life without entanglements is.

Her decision, "I don't have to confide in anyone," was made only as the first sound rolled off her tongue.

* * *

><p>There has been a very good reason that Kalinda has looked after herself well – a perfectly plausible justification for the fortress she has built about herself. Upon getting her new identity, she swore she would do the opposite of what Leela was used to. There were occasional slips – but this was her biggest. Alicia with her innocence, her vulnerability awoke a dormant dragon in Kalinda's heart. Sometime ago, she surrendered to love – the unrequited form. While for some, it was disempowering, depressing (like one perpetually wistful Will Gardner whenever he looks at Alicia – and his feelings was actually within the realm of requited); Kalinda took solace in the platonic relationship she had with Alicia. She got to spend time with the woman more than Will and Peter, so she never complained. As for intimacy, well, there were other people she can fuck while pretending it was Alicia who was writhing and moaning and coming in her mouth.<p>

Now that her secret was revealed and Alicia, in so many ways, had made it clear that their friendship had ended, Kalinda simply had to pick up the pieces and build her fortress anew.

She walked into the boardroom where Diane was briefing the associates about the high-profile case they were all in. It was the last seat available and she took it, confidence on full throttle, self-preservation mode on high gears.

Inside, she stacked bricks upon bricks to rebuild her fortress.

Her eyes communicated it as she met Alicia's eye. Outside of the lawyer's surprise and concomitant vulnerability, Kalinda's resolve grew.

_Stack, stack, stack. _

Her eyes flashed. And even after Alicia looked away, the sound of cement being mixed and applied onto hollow blocks echo through their minds.

_Stack, stack, stack._

And although she knew it won't hold against Alicia's brilliance, she did her best to

_Stack, stack, stack_.

* * *

><p>The case has placed the entire Lockhart-Gardner in a beautiful turmoil. Kalinda lives for the adrenaline rush and challenge of proving that their client is innocent of being a judge-killer. She also thinks that it is the same for all the lawyers in the firm. Especially Will and Diane. And even more so Alicia.<p>

The hustle and bustle did not give Kalinda time to thank her lucky stars for the fact that it distracted her from interacting with Alicia. It was, simply put, really busy. One would not be able to take a breather in between the transition time they all spent rushing from one task to another.

She rushed from one department to another, one lawyer to another. And although she had to pass by Alicia's office most of the time, the ever-present awkwardness was tempered by the pressure she was feeling.

This was why it came as a surprise when she heard an urgent "hey," as she passed by her ex-friend's office. Pathetically smitten as she was, her head automatically snapped to where the sound came from. She didn't even have the chance to reign in her enthusiasm and hope that Alicia was really calling out to her.

Luckily, the exuberance of her response was overlooked even as she modulated her features: jutting out her lower jaw, eyes flashing with unplanned skepticism, eyebrows shooting up.

"Look, "Alicia's eyes signal to whatever was on her desk.

Kalinda follows the other woman's gaze and sees something bloody. Without explanation, she approaches the glove drawn to the intrigue of what it may mean.

She started off that way – a silent, pensive little girl in India who gravitated towards trouble and sniffed and snooped her way to a resolution. Without fail, her "what may appear to be a tangential recounting of the situation," turned out to be factual. Blood was what attracted her in detective-work.

It began with a playground accident among her peers – when she saw blood splatter against the jungle gym poles. The bully, as expected, washed his hands of the matter and said the nosebleed was an accident. Kalinda's friend, Gupta, out of fear, supported the bully's story.

Of course Kalinda didn't allow such injustice. She spoke to the head teacher, and with her 8-year-old wit, proved that the bully punched Gupta out of nowhere.

"The blood looks like it was sprayed," she said. "It doesn't look like it dripped."

Gaurav, the bully, was expelled from school and Leela, _Kalinda,_ vowed she would grow up to become an investigator.

Now, entering the threshold of the office she used to frequent, her attention was automatically caught. That the request came from Alicia was forgotten. That she is in love with the person who made it clear _she_ didn't want to have anything to do with her was out of the question.

She just wanted to figure it out as soon as possible – and that was why her questions for Alicia came out mechanically, why her fingers automatically punched Sophia Russo's number.

* * *

><p>Sophia answered her phone with the usual professionalism reserved for an anonymous call. As soon as Kalinda identified herself, there was a moment of teasing that was erased by the urgency of the matter.<p>

She knew she could count on Sophia whether it be a business of intimacy, or just plain – business. Her words were quick, almost too-professional for the likes of her ex, Donna Seabrook. But being both investigators themselves, they understood the nuances of communication, and Sophia adapted accordingly.

Kalinda was thankful for having people around her who, to a certain degree, understood how things are supposed to be. She relished that experience until she put the phone down and heard Alicia ask, "Who was that?"

What else could Kalinda have said, but the truth, "a friend." She missed the roll of Alicia's eyes, but it was the pure, unadulterated truth. Sophia, after all, was originally a friend from the states attorney office. They met on a circumstance similar to this; they hit it off and they had a few (or more) fun nights together.

Kalinda knew Sophia was seeing someone, although the woman hadn't made it official. But she and Sophia had such great chemistry in bed that they had to act on it. They haven't rekindled their romance yet, but Sophia was surely counting on it – and so was Kalinda.

So calling Sophia a "friend" wasn't exactly lying, and there shouldn't be any problem asking her to come to Lockhart-Gardner, like she did.

* * *

><p>Sophia arrived at the office surprised to be seeing Kalinda Sharma waiting for her by the elevators.<p>

"Kalinda!" she exclaimed, a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth.

The other woman simply nodded and proceeded to explain the sudden appearance of a crucial piece of evidence that could either indict their client or not.

Kalinda felt that Sophia wanted a sign from her that though _she _was there on business, their own would be taken care of – eventually. She ushered the blond woman in, deliberately steering her from the small of her back. Sophia looked at Kalinda unsurprised, a suggestive glint flashing across her eyes.

Niceties were observed, of course – Kalinda introduced the other investigator to Diane, who nodded curtly, all-professional and to Alicia, whose eyes narrowed for but a heartbeat. The junior associate remained seated and transfixed on holding the envelope while Kalinda and Sophia discussed their case.

The change in the tone of her conversation with Sophia was indeed refreshing. She almost forgot how this synergy of investigative work played out. She discovered a new-found appreciation towards Sophia, which she expressed through an unconscious pat at the small of the woman's back.

It became a push for both investigators to exhaust their skills in arguing technicalities of acquiring evidence. The glove lying on top of a piece of paper cannot be touched – but the paper, containing proprietary and classified information from Lockhart-Gardner can be obtained.

With a swoop, the two women worked together, in a strange dance – synchronous, graceful and well-connected. The efficiency of their movements made Kalinda remember the person she vowed to be.

This was what she missed – actions not feelings. Clinical and precise, almost – sterile.

* * *

><p>After Sophia disappeared, it was back to more snooping. Alicia brought up the fact that the envelope the forensic people were testing wasn't the original one. Kalinda secretly swelled with pride at Alicia's display of amateur sleuth skills. She'd like to think she rubbed off on the lawyer – that maybe, even if Alicia scrubbed so hard, Kalinda will always be a part of her. It wasn't the most romantic idea, but the effect still had hints of it – Kalinda tried to erase the last thoughts in her mind.<p>

A few minutes later, she was walking along the hallway leading up to Sophia Russo's office, envelope (sealed safely in an evidence bag) in tow.

The other investigator's face lit up when she saw her visitor.

"Well you just can't stay away can you?" she teased.

Kalinda was all-business, because really, she didn't have time to be coy.

The exchange was short and sweet punctuated by an implied agreement to have a drink together. Kalinda understood what it meant. She knew she was going to have to pay up sometime and this was the time it had to happen.

The elevator doors closed in on a smirking Kalinda Sharma. She was moving on and moving back to her old ways – steadily.

* * *

><p>Kalinda sits by the bar of some unknown pub; Sophia left her close to five minutes ago, and her right earlobe is still warm from the other woman's breathy instructions.<p>

"Wait for my message, lover girl. I'll make it worth your while."

The younger investigator smiles at the memory of the blonde's tongue as it flicked and nipped at her earlobe to punctuate the message. She takes a long swig of her beer and shakes her head. It seems to her that all she's been doing is to wait for Sophia – like she waited at the lobby of the woman's office before their date… like she waited inside her office for the DNA and fingerprint results that might free their client.

Kalinda never waited for anyone – save perhaps for Alicia Florrick, but that to her is beside the point. Her willingness to spend time alone, in a bar where men ogle her and women steal seductive, surreptitious glances her way was motivated by two things. If acknowledgment mattered, Kalinda would only consider one driving factor: she owed Sophia. It was only fair to pay her back through – well it depended on the outcome of that night.

The other reason that she kept hidden deep in her subconscious was that she needed this distraction. She came close to recognizing this by allowing it to be in her head for not more than a minute. She didn't know that people could sum this all up to one word: rebound. She needed someone to make her forget about the loss of not only a friend, but a potential love; someone who will keep her from celebrating the resurgence of her unrequited love. Before Sophia allowed Kalinda back into her life, the East Indian investigator thought about drinking herself dry. Everyday.

It was by a stroke of luck that she started talking to Sophia again, and the conversation led to this night.

Forget about the fact that from the time the date started, her mind was gravitating towards Alicia.

Thoughts of the lawyer should be flushed down the memory drain… because days like these, when work becomes too taxing, they both go to pubs to get temporary amnesia; because days like these, they laugh themselves silly with oftentimes clever jokes about people around them; because days like these, Alicia gets herself too drunk to function and it is always up to Kalinda to bring her home safely; because days like these, Kalinda found contentment in the soft press of Alicia's body against hers, puffs of air coming out in sync with the older woman's controlled snigger; because times quite unlike these, she wonders where Alicia is, and with whom (if she does) she spends her Friday drunken nights with.

Kalinda's phone vibrates.

_Suite 304. The usual. I'm waiting. _

She stands up and pays for the bill, totally ignorant of the inner debate going on. To her, there was an unsettling feeling – and it was always something she could shake off.

* * *

><p>Kalinda lightly raps on the door, for discretion, for the enthusiasm she doesn't feel – she isn't sure.<p>

"It's open," came a voice from inside.

She gently turned the knob and pushed against the door. Sophia stood directly in front of her, wearing a robe over of her charcoal lingerie. The other woman was smiling invitingly at her. To Kalinda's surprise, nothing came to her.

In two long strides, she reached the almost-naked investigator and kissed her with all the passion she could gather. When she pulled back, someone else's face appeared before her: the straight brown hair parted in the middle, the curled lashes and the unmistakable brown eyes of Alicia Florrick looked back at her.

Her heart stopped until,

"My, my, take it easy lover girl."

The face faded back to its original owner –blonde, tall, beautiful, but unappealing.

Kalinda puts her index finger on Sophia's mouth in hopes of shutting her up. She led the other woman into the bedroom. She closed her eyes to summon the sweet image that came before her, not a full minute ago.

It was Alicia's lips that assaulted hers a few beats after. It was _her_ voice Kalinda heard moaning and groaning against her own mouth. Her heart was soaring, melting into this moment.

"Look at me, sweetie," came Sophia's voice.

Kalinda's eyes fluttered open. It was surprise that first registered into her eyes followed by subdued disgust. She almost pushed Sophia off – instead, she took the other woman's shoulder and maneuvered it so they were both lying on the bed, the blonde helplessly pinned against her.

"It doesn't matter. All that should count is this," and Kalinda started her descent towards Sophia's chest.

The other woman slithered and arched against her expert teasing. No matter how much control was in Kalinda's court, pleasure evaded her until her mind was able to summon the sighs she wanted to hear.

For a split-second, she opened her eyes to look at the now pliant brunette moving helplessly against her roaming mouth.

She smiled and continued her downward traversing of this body to make this Alicia happy and satisfied.

* * *

><p>Things aren't happening fast enough for Kalinda: The sound of common sense she should've heard hours before she went to bed with Sophia; the break in the case so she can wrap up the investigation for it was something Alicia was heavily involved in.<p>

Most especially, the kick from the shots of vodka she has been downing hasn't arrived. Her mind is surprisingly alert after six shots; her heart regrettably hasn't been numbed.

Not an hour ago, she was in bed with a fully-sated Sophia, being teased for no longer being as fun as she used to. More than an hour before that, she was having sex with her eyes squeezed shut – because it was the only way she could make the other woman's blond hair brunette, was the only way she can substitute her old colleague's face for the woman she is now working with. Because not looking at Sophia was the only guarantee she would be seeing Alicia in her mind.

Not more than forty-five minutes ago, she listened to Sophia's abridged story of her marital status – in which seconds after, her world froze.

Not more than thirty minutes ago, she was fumbling for her keys, breath coming in and out in rapid succession. All she cared about in that short drive to _her_ bar was the million and one alcoholic concoctions that would make her hammered (and hopefully, would hammer her senses hard enough to start breathing properly again).

Not more than twenty minutes ago, she downed her first vodka shot – which felt like he throat was just doused with kerosene, but made her feel like she just had a sip of water. She swore that until she exhausted the effect of the first poison, she wouldn't move on to the next.

Four more shots after her first six, the stirrings of a confession bubbled in her stomach. It was the lack of food that she blamed.

Another shot and she belches, quite un-lady-like.

She saw it flash before her eyes, with the escaping gas coming from her mouth:

Alicia, lying in bed, fully-sated, morphs into the reality otherwise known as Sophia.

Her shot glass drops and shatters on the floor.

Sophia's husband. _Alicia's husband._

Married. Marriage. Infidelity.

Another burp.

The acid leaves a bad taste in her mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

I swore to let it out, here's some more!

**Chapter 5**

The last time Alicia felt inadequate was when she found out about Peter's affair.

Women always want to be adored – they want to feel that they are the most important person in the lives of their loved ones. However much she projected a modern, independent woman veneer, she remained susceptible to the occasional need for ego boost (and the heartbreaking opposite when one is made to feel like trash along a dirt road).

Ego boost. She chuckled sardonically. The man beside him turned towards her at the sound of stifled laughter, and propped his head on his open palm.

"Okay?" The deep voice of Will Gardner cut through her reverie.

"Yes." Alicia turned to him and smiled. In a heartbeat, she rose to sit up, collecting her things in the process.

Will sat up against the headboard, nodding. He wished she wouldn't be in such a hurry gathering her things. He wanted to know the reason for Alicia's switch from the hot, sexy woman he just made love with, _wanted_ very much to ignore the fact that her eyes were tightly shut the whole time. But he also knew that he had no right to ask her. He pretended to understand.

"An hour, right?" Will carefully made his tone nonchalant.

Alicia had just finished putting her dress back on and was struggling with her zipper; Will rolled towards her to help. At the touch of his finger, Alicia jerked away and stood up to cover her reaction.

He put his hands up in surrender.

"I am sorry, Will," she said, channeling tenderness that wasn't there. "I need to get back. My kids…"

"I understand."

She was able to successfully dress up and proceeded on reapplying her makeup. With a final click of her handbag, Will knew that the hour was officially over. Over forever.

Alicia looked at Will once more with honest and sincere eyes. "I will never forget this Will… this… past hour."

His heart leapt, and with the realization of the message, plummeted. He smiled his thoughts away, simply watched Alicia walk out of the $7800 suite.

* * *

><p>Alicia knew there was something wrong when she saw Kalinda approach her in the suite after locking up. Her smile faded at the sight of her and when a man's voice came out of her mouth, Alicia was sure she had a mini-heart attack. As she blinked, Will's form came to view, and instead of relief, her anxiety level went up a notch.<p>

That should have been her cue no to go through the one hour. She stubbornly ignored the dread and used feeling good as a justification.

That she couldn't respond to Will's kisses unless she shut her eyes tight and conjure up images of Kalinda should've stopped her, but she dismissed the thoughts to be meaningless. As she walked down the hotel hallway, guilt stretched with her shadow. It wasn't because of Peter – after all, they have already separated. It wasn't because of Tammy, who still was technically with Will. No.

It was because of Will.

Their night started off with such promise, and she honestly believed that they could have something. That was why she agreed when he propositioned her to have an hour together. She was moving on with her life – away from Peter.

Away from Kalinda.

She was working on regaining her self-confidence. Will's invitation, she imagined, came in the right place at the right time.

But seeing him expecting more, after she just allowed herself to make love to Kalinda in her mind – instead of being present, with him – was heartbreaking.

She boarded the elevator mechanically. As she reached the ground floor, she was greeted by the cheerful _ding_ of the elevator bell. Even that did not help her snap out of her pensive mood.

She swore she'll make it right with Will and work on rebuilding their friendship…how exactly she was going to accomplish it, she didn't know.

* * *

><p>Her resolve was not enough to put her mind at ease. She craved to see <em>her<em> and tell _her_ what just happened. For old time's sake. For the satisfaction of her hope to witness a hint of jealousy from Kalinda – who didn't seem to have problems parading her Sophia Russo in the office, for the duration of their last case.

The whole duration of their last case was overstating it. Sophia disappeared right before Diane innocently paired them up to question the reformed rebel-daughter of the murdered judge.

A few minutes ago, her cab pulled over their apartment complex. As she opened her purse to take out money, Kalinda's change of address notice stared back at her. She knew where it was. Admittedly, a little after the investigator gave her the notice, she passed by the place out of sheer curiosity – It was out of her way to have done that, but she wanted to know, see the other woman's lair firsthand.

It was for those reasons that Alicia found herself outside the building she once visited, but never entered.

* * *

><p>She stood outside the hulking edifice, the scene becoming grainy and monochromatic before her. From the corner of her eyes, the decorative vines that crawl outside balconies thicken – a silent but potent warning to those who dare enter.<p>

From somewhere inside (or in her mind) Bach's Toccata & Fuge played, the wailing of the pipe organ commanding the hair on her arms to rise in macabre response to the haunting music. Her dress transformed into a black frock; her face, covered by a black veil, registered confusion as her illusion grew to terrifying heights.

Approaching Kalinda after the way she treated the investigator was going to be difficult. She has mourned the death of their friendship in nights when she knew she was alone in her space. The biting, mauling anger that she had unleashed was both needed and exaggerated, she has gone as far as admitting that.

To finally resume their friendship after knowing she has slept with Peter could be challenging, but not altogether impossible. To resume their friendship knowing that she has (by kissing Kalinda) admitted a deep-seated attraction, and that her own husband had the first taste of the person she wanted so badly made the whole idea indigestible, unacceptable.

She knew turning to Will was a mistake. There was her marriage in limbo to worry about. She knowingly complicated her life by surrendering to the impulse of wanting to hurt Kalinda before she had the time to find out why she was royally pissed. She knew Kalinda was biased towards her; she had the inkling that the in-house was attracted to her. Her plan to seduce Kalinda to hurt the woman backfired. After seeing her with Sophia Russo, she finally admitted that she was – in love.

Tonight was the lowest point. She piled problems after problems, complications after complications.

The veil lifter and the nightmarish scene before her dissolved in to the gentle moonlight.

Alicia walked up the steps, towards the row of buzzers delegated to inhabitants of apartment units in the complex. She consulted the slip of paper once more, found the right button to press and reached out to press the embossed black circle to announce her arrival.

Then she saw it: a flash of consciousness – Kalinda's body inches away from Sophia while they talked about DNA collection; Sophia straightening and shifting her weight towards the limb closer to the investigator, so she can rub up against her Kalinda.

_Her_ Kalinda.

An interesting feeling crawled up her body. But she couldn't crop out the image of the blond investigator in her head. As though to taunt her, memories of Sophia Russo's taut body popped in her head furthering her insecurity. She was young, perky, available, and fun; she was the person whose back Kalinda touched at even intervals while they conversed.

Alicia's hand dropped to her side.

But was it not the same Kalinda who was with her a few days ago, highly-charged, endearingly awkward? The same Kalinda who bravely stood beside her, as they introduced themselves in weird, jerky unison to the judge's daughter? The woman was almost prostrate with sorrow, and while Alicia didn't appease her then, she found that the vulnerability was tugging at her heartstrings, and it was only now that she responded.

She reached out for the buzzer once more.

Another jolt of reality: Kalinda in bed, stretching luxuriously with pretty little Sophia, moving on top of her and claiming the lips Alicia wanted to kiss.

The hand dropped.

Her cynicism was buried at the surfacing of another thought: Kalinda dressed in her night clothes, left hand clutching a bottle of beer, lap adorned by a hard bound book – no other living, breathing thing in her immediate vicinity… Kalinda, silently crying because of some touching revelation of the novel's protagonist… Kalinda, still waiting for her.

The hand went up, enthusiastically, claiming a desired future.

The visions worsened: Along with bodies horizontally moving towards and against, aiming for pleasure and release, were the barely audible smooth jazz music playing in the background – each silky note commanded Kalinda to touch, tickle and tease.

Touch, tickle and tease a body that was not Alicia's.

The hand not only dropped; it held on to the bag's strap, threatening to overtake the senses; threatening to be the first to leave.

The music remained, but the body, the one body she hasn't seen naked was immersed in warm water, soft, white bubbles floating along the surface. Kalinda, alone and relaxing, sipped wine to the crescendo of the music. Kalinda. Alone.

The hand moved up with fresh determination.

With a few millimeters to spare before her index finger touched the button, she heard giggling. At first, she thought it was her mind once more, but, as a brunette appeared in her range of vision, she balked and she came flying down the stairs. She hid behind the thick vines of the complex.

"This is the last time this is going to happen," the voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't place the owner. The giggling continued.

Until she heard the voice.

The voice.

"Of course not. Next time, I'll be ready." It was the unmistakable voice of Kalinda Sharma.

And with that certainty came the unequivocal sound of two people kissing – and enjoying it too much.

Alicia was too shocked to run away; too surprised to allow tears to flow.

"Go home," Kalinda said clearly. It was followed by the opening of a door and the clasping of its lock.

"I love you," the woman outside called out, trying to sound light and flippant.

"Yeah. Me too," came Kalinda's humorous response.

Alicia witnessed all of it: the seriousness in the face of the woman as she jokingly said the words; the spark of hope that shone in her eyes upon hearing Kalinda's response.

_But Kalinda didn't mean it._

If only she could tell the woman. If only she could convince herself that.

_It should be me._

Alicia heard footsteps moving away from her hiding spot and it was only then she could release the sob forming in her throat. Once the footsteps died down, she ran away as fast as her 3-inch heels permitted her, stopping only to hail a passing cab.

* * *

><p><em>What do I do?<em>

The question came with the muffled sobs she labored to keep hidden during her cab ride.

_What do I do?_

Now that she has calmed down, the question followed the cadence of the brushing of her teeth, the washing of her face, the splashing of water on places she'd rather remain pristine.

The dirt removed from her skin and teeth did not provide her the clarity she was hoping for.

Was Kalinda lost to her now? Can they still be friends? Can she handle being friends with the in-house knowing the other woman will start talking about a different girl? Did Kalinda know the other woman was serious about her declaration? Was a part of Kalinda even serious about it? Can she try to win Kalinda back? Does she have to gall to do that?

By the time she reached her own bed, her mind was still abuzz with questions. She didn't realize she was able to put on her nightgown, and that she was actually ready to sleep.

She climbed to the comforts of her own bed, burying the thoughts with her high-class duvet.

Typically, she slept in the middle. It was something she trained herself to do since Peter's imprisonment. The short period of time she allowed him to sleep in their bed was easy. It took all of scooting sideways to accommodate the man she was married to, for a long time. Her decision of separate with him did not cause her the same level of sentimental recounting of the past as she did the first time. It was just like riding a bike – once you put your foot on the pedal, everything will follow suit. Her first night without Peter, the second time, was just like that.

Tonight, she moved to her right. Before she knew it, she reached out for the piece of paper that bore Kalinda's address – it was all of Kalinda that she had.

As she tucked herself, she placed the paper on the pillow beside her, smoothed it carefully, with veneration reserved for gods. She breathed in and out as a few drops of tears flowed from her eyes. She ran her hand across the sheet and smiled. With much love, she bid a sweet goodnight to space, to someone who wasn't there.

"I do love you."

As she closed her eyes, she allowed her hand to rest on the sheet of paper. It was Kalinda, after all. It was something that was hers.

She slept without waiting for the response issued by the wind.

Because if she did, if she had listened hard enough, she would've heard the rustling of leaves that carried a morphed voice that she was very familiar with.

"I love you. More."


	6. Chapter 6

Aaaannnd more…

HouseBroken and Givit2me – thank you for your kind words and the wonderful review. I hope to not disappoint. *smile*

**Chapter 6**

Kalinda woke up with goose bumps. It was not because of Lana's parting words. They both knew that she could never stay with anyone forever. The longest she has ever been with a woman was when she went out with Donna, and that ended tragically, when she was made to act against her nature.

The previous night, Lana went home with her after a few drinks from a pub. They initially met at a hotel, but have changed venues after. The FBI agent going home with her should have been a big deal for some, but she worked on making it as meaningless as possible. However much she tried, she also knew that Lana might read into everything she was doing.

Compared to Sophia, Lana was available. If she were the second Donna, it would be okay – at least she was not attached. And unlike Donna, Lana was more adventurous, open-minded. She wouldn't be someone who would make Kalinda more domesticated… no, she wouldn't ask her to commit.

This made Kalinda breathe easily.

It wasn't because Kalinda was against commitment. It just had to take someone really special to tame her. Thus far, it was only Alicia who has made her consider being monogamous and loyal.

When things went south after the revelation of her sin (of omission), she was left to deal with the aftermath.

As far as moving on and moving forward, Lana was her best bet, her perceived savior. She initially thought it would be Sophia, but having found out that the woman was married, she severed ties with the blond investigator. She still needed someone to get her groove back, and Lana was it.

The goose bumps may be the omen she was looking for in that she would associate to her impending rehabilitation. Alicia might have just been an addiction. So she shook it off, and carried on to start her day.

* * *

><p>The night before, Lana flirted with the Lockhart-Gardner investigator mercilessly, but a change in Kalinda's demeanor made the FBI agent realize that she might be dealing with a different Kalinda. She cared for the East Indian investigator enough to allow her to be the way she was, but not enough for her to admit it to the other woman's face. The change in Kalinda's demeanor might eventually mean a relationship. Lana knew it would be short-lived, and she couldn't ask for anything more.<p>

The kisses they shared did not escalate to something more physical.

It bothered the FBI agent initially, but she immediately saw it as a challenge, a mystery – something she needed to uncover. Add the fact that she has always wondered what it was like to be with Kalinda, (she dared not use "committed" as that word was Kryptonite to Kalinda) she couldn't resist ending their night with a hint towards what she wished.

Kalinda responded in her typical manner—unsatisfactory but not totally useless. That was, in the good agent's opinion, a start.

* * *

><p>At work, her erroneous conclusions were proven wrong by a revelation. Although it came in the form of an inkling, the idea was more plausible compared to her original deduction.<p>

Will called her in to brief her about a new case. She obediently took down notes, and as they were about to wrap up, Alicia came in with a precursory knock, not bothering for a response.

The silence was pregnant with meaning as the female lawyer saw her. Will unconsciously adjusted his tie to busy himself. The awkwardness was so thick it would have fogged the office and hidden them in seclusion for years.

Sleuth-sense heightened, Kalinda could only attribute the behavior to what she had seen in the camera that was resting peacefully in her bag.

Acknowledging herself to be the outsider, Alicia excused herself, mumbling her apologies.

"Sorry. Needed to see Kalinda… Another case… Maybe later..."

A few seconds after Alicia left, she walked out of the partner's office, and back to her own to start searching for leads.

Her productivity was hampered by her thoughts that went curiously back to Alicia.

_She could have spoken to me after I have gone out of Will's office._

She rummaged through her bag and found what she was looking for: a thin, rectangular, digital camera that she acquired using her wiles. She knew the contents of the camera, regretfully by heart, as she studied its previous owner before successfully procuring the gadget.

_She was trying to stop Will from accidentally opening up. _

She reached out for a sticky note and wrote her message. She stuck it across the lens and walked towards the office of the person she intended the message for.

* * *

><p>The previous, fateful night, she called Lana Delaney to ask her to hang out. Unlike her old idea of hanging out, her invitation was simply a way to catch up. She made sure her tone was casual-professional, and that the venue was well-populated, but new.<p>

A new place she defined to be any accessible establishment that served overflowing liquor and most importantly, Alicia (memories)-free.

She entered the hotel's bar breezily, as though she belonged. It wasn't until an hour from the time she arrived that the esteemed FBI agent was to arrive. She took a seat for two at a relatively secluded spot – to protect, more than anything, their anonymity.

Kalinda ordered scotch on the rocks, just to stop the waiter from ogling her. She brought her laptop with her – just in case.

They have just wrapped up a major case, and though she didn't have anything new to investigate (a rarity, in her otherwise busy schedule) having her laptop around has saved her from losing her mind because of boredom.

Upon finishing her first glass, she waved at the waiter to order some more. The appearance of familiar faces led her to drop her arm abruptly.

A beautiful, slender woman in silver dress walked in, giggling as a man in suit followed her.

She knew that face from afar. And it almost made her freeze on the spot.

_Apparently, I have been replaced. _

Will now was Alicia's drinking buddy, and however close they were sitting against each other didn't matter. The hair behind Kalinda's neck stood on its ends, like a watchdog in attention. It was because of jealousy she wouldn't admit to herself at that time; jealousy that she ignored as she tuned in more clearly to her surroundings.

_They had to be having so much fun._

Alicia's laugh lines crinkled to mock the voyeur that was Kalinda. To add insult to injury, Will appeared to be having equal amounts of enjoyment as he smiled and laughed with the female lawyer.

_This is bad._

Peter had just won the elections, and Kalinda knew that Alicia would be a target for gossips and scandals. Her initial impulse was to protect the female lawyer. Will, her employer, was just an incidental recipient of this gesture.

Around them, men and women were minding their own businesses: men doing their best to flatter their dates to get lucky; women striving to be mysterious so as to guarantee a second date. It was because of this predictability that Kalinda was able to see the lone stranger who was deep in thought with something he was seeing in his camera. It went off for more than a minute, until he saw the man pointing the barely visible lens of the camera towards Alicia and Will.

Her ears pricked, elf-like, protective instincts kicking in. She waited for several more minutes as the paparazzo took more pictures until her boss and her lady love stood to go somewhere.

Kalinda saw her chance when the man waved at the waiter to get his bill. She did the same, unbuttoning her top in the process. A slender, bespectacled waiter came to her.

"Hi," she called out to him. "Listen, my best friend is totally in love with that guy," she covertly pointed at the unknown paparazzo. "She wanted me to send him a message. I was wondering," Kalinda used her arms to squeeze her breasts together as she leaned in. She made sure her cleavage was more visible, "if I could deliver his bill, so I can send him that message?" She smiled sweetly, extending a hundred dollar bill at the tip of her fore and middle fingers.

The waiter did not even pay attention to the note trapped between Kalinda's fingers as he said, "Sure. Let me help you with that." In a split-second, the man approached the counter, holding two leather-bound booklets. He made his way to Kalinda, smiling sheepishly as he pointed to the closed booklet to his right.

"This one's for your bill, the other one's for your friend's friend." Kalinda flashed him her sweetest smile as she said her thanks. She slipped the hundred-dollar note into her booklet containing her bill, stood up and took the other to the paparazzo.

"Sir," she looked at him through her lashes. The man looked at her, enamored. Before he allowed himself to question the new waitress who came to him, Kalinda was able to adeptly switch his camera to a different one.

It was by sheer luck that Kalinda owned the same camera. Advances in technology nowadays made people own smaller and more useful gadgets. This particular camera was able to capture things from afar without compromising quality. It could also absorb light faster than a high-end digital SLR. It cost her nearly half a month's salary, but considering the underlying circumstances the cost became immaterial. Not a single iota of regret overcame Kalinda as she as good as squandered her recently-acquired gadget.

The man busily looked at his bill, fished out twenty dollars and inserted it in the spine of the booklet. He looked at Kalinda and smirked, in what he thought to be a seductive manner.

"The bill will have my number on it. Call me."

And with that he stood up, gathered his things (including Kalinda's newly relinquished camera) and walked away.

As the paparazzo disappeared, Kalinda handed the booklet to the waiter. She made her way back to her seat while letting a sense of accomplishment wash over her. She didn't care about anything else. She had the camera that possibly contained incriminating photographs, and that was all that mattered. Switching memory cards would've taken longer, and her decision to give up her own property came in last-minute.

She reached her seat and turned towards the hotel bar's doorway. To her surprise, Lana was standing at the threshold, talking to the paparazzo she just stole the camera from. The man appeared to have shrunk in the presence of the FBI agent. To a seasoned investigator like Kalinda, that kind of behavior meant one thing: he was a neophyte who had yet to find a steady clientele.

The man left quickly, and the FBI agent was left searching for her. She fanned her lithe fingers towards Lana as she collected her things to meet her at the bar's entrance.

"I thought we were going to meet here?" Lana asked suspiciously, her voice more mischievous than it was serious.

"And so we have," came Kalinda's reply.

"Did you have other plans?"Lana inquired, eyes twinkling.

"Maybe…" Kalinda tugged her outside, away from the populated bar. "Away from men, perhaps?"

Lana laughed.

"Oh baby. Don't tell me you were jealous? He was just some inexperienced PI who hit jackpot."

"You being the grand prize?" Kalinda feigned suspicion.

Lana laughed some more.

"He was paid an amount he didn't deserve by someone who asked him to spy on someone else. "

"If you say so," the East Indian investigator said distractedly.

_Who could it have been?_

She tried to commit the man's features to memory. Blond. Hair parted in the middle – high school boy cut. Fair and bony. Sticks out like a sore thumb. Stupidly tall and annoyingly square – plaid shirt and khaki pants.

Easy to remember.

* * *

><p>Before she had the chance to stand up, Alicia Florrick entered her office, avoiding her eyes. She looked at the lawyer quizzically, to ask what she needed; <em>to ask<em>, more importantly, why she looked nervous.

"I need the files. The witness is in the board room, and I only have an hour to prep her," the older woman said levelly.

Apparently, she had just imagined the nervousness. She extended her left hand that was already holding the manila envelope, almost jumping in surprise when Alicia's fingertips brushed against her knuckles.

She didn't need to say something to address that. She didn't have the time – as soon as her hand released the files, the lawyer turned away and hurriedly walked towards the boardroom.

Kalinda sniffed the air about her for emphasis: the putrid scent of anger had evaporated; its previous presence washed away by the stench of secrecy with overtones of guilt.

Once more, Kalinda reached out for the compact digital camera, stood up and walked purposefully to Alicia Florrick's office.

She already knew what happened, without even having witnessed the palpable awkwardness of the lawyer's energy.

Her forefingers rested lightly on the camera's power button, debating whether to turn it on and be washed over by a tide of emotions she didn't want to deal with, or leave it off and be haunted by images she regretfully memorized.

The first time she reviewed the pictures after Lana had left, her limbs turned cold and her guts felt like it was being twisted into balloons. It was jealousy she had no right to feel, of course. It was also the shattering of her world as the finality of her hopeful dreams slammed against her constricted pupils.

Who am I fooling, really? She made it clear she didn't want to have anything to do with me.

While Alicia remained to be Peter's wife, Kalinda felt a sense of sick comfort knowing that the lawyer of her esteem belonged to someone before she even fell head-over-heels in love. But seeing Alicia with someone else other than her – just seeing – she knew her grave had been dug and her body ached to lie in the hollowed earth.

And she knew she wouldn't feel that way any longer as she had taken the measures to regain her old self back. Kalinda took a deep, calming breath and pulled herself together; pulled herself further in.

A few more seconds and she reached the desk of the woman who came to her office, not five minutes ago. She carefully placed the camera on a pile of paperwork, and walked away as fast as she could; the ghost of the images chasing her with every painful step.

* * *

><p>On her way back to her office, she saw a tall blonde guy in plaid shirt and khaki pants walking towards the reception area of Lockhart-Gardner. Senses heightened, she approached the office nearest to the receptionist to spy on the man. Choosing a well-hidden location, she strained to hear what the man was saying.<p>

"I was told I could find Eli Gold here?" the man had an uncharacteristically deep voice – deeper than the voice he used at the hotel bar.

"Who may I say is asking for him?"

"Carl." He dug his hands deep into his pocket as he waited.

Kalinda stilled as she heard Eli Gold's name, conjectures forming in her mind. She quieted her thought as soon as she heard the publicist's booming voice.

"Carl! Good to see you! How is my niece's husband?"

She could hear the panic rising from Eli's voice. He led the blond man into the corner office he temporarily used for his in-house campaign.

She moved towards the weakest spot on the wall to listen in further.

"You didn't have to be nervous, Mr. Gold. I am untreaceable."

Kalinda almost laughed at the pompous claim.

"And more importantly, because there's nothing to report."

_The bastard lied._ She smiled at the throwaway excuse for having been one-upped. She heard a sigh, possibly of relief, probably coming from Eli.

"Thank you. But please, Carl, never approach me in public, in broad daylight."

"I am sorry, Sir. I thought…" the man spluttered.

The door opened, Eli's exceptionally enthusiastic and blatantly fabricated tone reverberated along the corridor.

"Well, just remember to give my love to Cristina, and the little one."

Finding her moment, Kalinda stepped away from her position and approached the two men by the elevators.

With unusually chirpy voice, she called out, "Eli."

The well-dressed man arched his eyebrows up in recognition, the famous smile spreading across his face. The man beside him turned pale as he recognized Kalinda.

"Kalinda! This is Carl, my niece's husband. Carl, Kalinda – Lockhart-Gardner's in-house."

She flashed a winning smile to the blond man who was losing more color to his face. She extended her hand as the pitiful investigator mechanically accepted her greeting.

"I hope you don't just give away your number to strangers, being the married man that you are."

The man yelped in surprise as the elevator doors pinged. He entered without a moment's hesitation leaving a confused Eli Gold in his wake.

She smiled knowingly.

"Mr. Gold," enunciating each word for emphasis. "Next time, you can just ask me about what's going on, instead of paying a novice."

Eli opened and closed his mouth uselessly.

"And don't worry," Kalinda placed her hand on Eli's shoulders. "Nothing will happen. Ever."

Eli swallowed, a nervous smile appearing on his face.

"Th-thank you. How do you know?"

"I am a seasoned, well-paid investigator," she said matter-of-factly.

_And if you see Will's heartbroken look each time Alicia passed by, you'll know. You'll know even with the lie that your investigator fed you._

Eli nodded curtly, accepting his mistake.

"Well, next time, I know who to approach."

Kalinda smiled and started walking away.

"Oh, and Mr. Gold? When the time comes? I think you need to apologize."

"O-of course."

Times like these, Kalinda didn't have to think.

She would protect Alicia.


	7. Chapter 7

I am relentless. I will not stop until I have told my story before the season premiers. *smiles*

Chapters 8 and 9 are short, so they would be published back-to-back.

MirandaMinerva: you are a real inspiration. Thank you.

Vi: Thank you for your friendship and loyalty… I am forever indebted.

Givit2me: Your words keep me going! Here you are! *tips hat in reverence*

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

The past hour flew by Alicia leaving her reeling with adrenaline rush. The expert witness was a quick study, considering this was her first time. They got her cheap, but her irrefutable knowledge about forensics proved to be a valuable commodity. Alicia's confidence grew by the minute as thoughts about her personal life were temporarily shunned – categorized and filed in a flimsy compartment in her brain.

She lunched inside the conference room, finishing her notes and recommendations. While doing the rote activity, her worry about being alone was tempered. Her final bite of the roast lamb sandwich though, awakened her taste buds to a not-so-long ago memory of the last time she had eaten that particular food.

She almost choked as her lunch mate laughed with her.

"If you do do sleep with Will, I swear, I'll have a stroke!" Kalinda joked.

"Do do?" Alicia repeated.

"It was a stu—" Kalinda tried to explain.

"Do do? If I substitute that with another vowel sound, then we'll be talking about an extinct bird!" Alicia exclaimed.

"Which Will should be for you! An extinct… BIRD!"

Alicia laughed so hard at Kalinda's allusion, the lamb meat made a sharp detour to her trachea. As the lawyer alternately coughed and spluttered, the investigator panted and choked at the image she drew,

It was something Alicia hadn't had for quite some time: a heartfelt laughter. More importantly, she hadn't shared it with the same persons for ages.

Her eyes welled with tears as she felt the bitter-salty beginnings of an emotional breakdown.

Bravely, she swallowed the last morsel of roast lamb sandwich, sadness chasing the food down to her stomach.

* * *

><p>She swiftly exited the boardroom, files in hand. These days, her peripheral vision was more active as it was the only way she could allow herself to see Kalinda. Her sonar was on hyper vigilant state when she heard the investigator's telltale dull boot-clack, strangely followed by sharp, sonorous stiletto-click. Her ears pricked together with the slow spread of goosebumps.<p>

The footsteps stopped and was punctuated by a soft thud – maybe of a body being lightly pushed against the wall (please God, let that not be the case) or of the closing of a door. She couldn't decide as listening in was more important.

Never in her life had Alicia been the prying kind; she always made it a point to keep her nose off other people's business, but that time, she had to know. She surreptitiously moved towards where the sounds came from, not too far from where she stood. She stopped for a couple of minutes and listened.

Nothing.

She knew all-too-well that she couldn't stand two feet away from Kalinda's office any longer, so she looked up to satisfy her curiosity. Her world froze.

The investigator's left cheek was being cradled by the hand of…

She walked a few steps further…

Lana Delaney. And she could see her smile – her Kalinda's… smile directed towards the FBI agent.

Alicia walked on, unable to tear her eyes off the scene, until she bumped onto something solid and then felt cold liquid soaking her silk blouse. The cold that blew from the air conditioning unit a few feet away made her shiver and look up.

"Oh, my. I – I'm so – Mr. Gold!" She exclaimed.

"Alicia." Eli's voice was clipped. "I wanted to talk to you. About something. But…" he looked at the state of Alicia's clothes, "I guess we can talk later."

"Mr. Gold…"

"Eli." He corrected.

"MISTER Gold, if this is about being your liaison, it can wait. I have more pressing things to take care of." Alicia stated matter-of-factly.

"No, no. It's not about that." Eli's eyes narrowed, "it's something else. But you're right. It's not urgent."

"I'm sorry for ruining your tie."

"Not as sorry as I am for –" he gestured towards her soaked blouse.

As she resumed walking, she heard, once more, the soft thud of something.

This time, she did not dare look.

* * *

><p>She dumped the files on her desk and started rummaging through her cabinets. She always kept her workout clothes in the office – a futile exercise considering she has never used them. That day, it finally served its purpose.<p>

She pulled a white tee from the cabinet, all the while heaving the remaining contents in.

_I seriously need to clean that up some time soon._

Thankfully she didn't have any more appointments. Thankfully, the tee was decent enough to be seen underneath her blazer.

She left the room without noticing the swizzle stick that fell from the stack of stuff she wrestled back barely a minute ago.

* * *

><p>Barely six months ago, they had tried a different mix. Not that they no longer liked the sting of tequila – they still had them occasionally. But that night was a different night. They celebrated the first weekday that they were able to go home early. The case was wrapped up fast – without even having to go to court. They both felt that going home at five in the afternoon felt like the world was coming to an end, so they rushed to their usual place and ordered something new.<p>

After an hour, they have ordered enough swizzles, aptly named for their new preoccupation: playing pick-up sticks. They managed to wheedle more swizzle sticks from the bartender to make their game more interesting. Their childish giggles attracted more (curious) customers who alternately full-on gaped and stealthily peeped at their developing game.

Alicia and Kalinda laughed as they expertly maneuvered and manipulated the sticks, both distracting each other; both with equal number of picked up sticks.

As Alicia's turn came up, she had no other choice but to try to flick a lone stick crisscrossed with two others. She knew that if she were able to accomplish the feat, she would definitely win. She scrunched up her face to concentrate as she held her breath. The glasses upon glasses of swizzles she had been drinking were taking its toll on her ability to hold still. Kalinda's face suddenly appeared in her range of vision in an attempt to distract her. Having done that tactic so many times herself, Alicia made her choice to ignore her.

She was finally able to place the tip of her own sticks at her target. As she prepared to flick the stick, Kalinda puffed her cheeks and crossed her eyes. The result was disastrous.

The stick Alicia was holding sailed towards Kalinda's face, missing the investigator's eye by a couple of millimeters.

"Ow." Kalinda cried out.

"I am so sorry." Alicia let go of the remaining stick and grabbed Kalinda's head, rubbing the spot on the process.

"You should not have distracted me."

"Typical." Kalinda mock-glared at her.

"Huh?"

"Typical for you to blame me."

Alicia stopped stroking and frowned at Kalinda. Before she could say something, Kalinda grinned and recanted her statement.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

Alicia's anger dissolved upon seeing the reddish scratch near the investigator's inner canthus. Instinctively, the lawyer reached out and kissed the bruise.

Alicia froze at the implication.

"Thanks, mother," Kalinda joked.

They both laughed heartily.

"I'm really sorry, but…" Alicia grabbed the stick that hit Kalinda. "I am going to keep this – as the deadly weapon that almost impaled your generally-beautiful eyeballs."

Alicia laughed once again, as Kalinda frowned to feign hurt.

* * *

><p>Alicia entered her room, not noticing she stepped on the swizzle stick and accidentally swept it underneath her desk.<p>

* * *

><p>Three consecutive and firm knock on the door and Alicia paused her intensive note-taking. Seeing the hooked nose and gray suit, she immediately knew who her visitor was.<p>

"Come in," after a brief moment's hesitation Alicia convinced herself that the sooner she took responsibility of her own actions (and undoing) the sooner would she feel better. Kalinda or not, she knew what her decision was.

Will Gardner, wistful personified, walked into her office, body language confirming what she had feared.

"How are you?" He asked as he sat on a nearby chair.

"I have gone through the motions with our expert witness and I have just finished writing my opening argument. Anyway, I am confident that everything will turn out well." She knew that her response was not what Will expected, but her answer gained a gentle nod from the senior partner, just the same.

"Listen, Alicia…" Will began.

It was the moment of truth for the junior associate. She was well-aware that she wouldn't have the heart to say her piece if Will continued speaking the way he was. She interrupted him, careful to sound as polite as possible.

"Will," the authority in her voice made the man snap his head towards her, his saccharine thoughts neutralized.

"I have… enjoyed our one hour, please know that."

Will remained expressionless, but Alicia thought she saw a tiny flicker of hope in his eyes.

"Also, please know that I treasure our friendship. I treasure it more than what we could have had."

She admired Will's seeming indifference. For someone who came in with a love-struck expression, possibly accompanied by a pre-imagined desire of what was to come, being able to maintain a stoic expression was an accomplishment.

"I am glad that it happened, Will. Much as it pains me to admit, what it did to me was finally see things clearly. No matter how much we'd like to romanticize it, our time has really passed. We are no longer the same people."

She labored to maintain eye contact, even with the flashes of hurt that intermittently appeared in Will's eyes.

"It was nice to have gotten a glimpse of what I used to be… but that is a far cry from the Alicia I am. And who I am right now is such a juvenile compared to the Alicia I strive to be. The Alicia now can offer you nothing more than friendship, Will. And you know I will always love you as a very dear friend."

Once it began, she couldn't hold back. It was liberating, at the same time frightening – to finally be able to take a stand, but risk a very important relationship.

"Thank you for being honest," Will cut her off before she could add more.

"I wasn't expecting this, but I am glad you had the chance to speak your mind." He stood up and smiled, eyes glistening.

"I want you to be happy. That's it."

With those final words, Alicia stood up and gave him a tight hug. It was difficult to squash the dreams of a good man, but she knew it was necessary. They would be able to look at themselves in the mirror once more, without moisture fogging their form.

"Thank you Will. I wish that for you too." They separated almost as fast as she reached out for the embrace. Will left the room abruptly, leaving a peaceful Alicia in his wake.

Completion is a gray suit slowly disappearing from sight, edges relaxed and trimmed with reality.

* * *

><p>After her talk with Will, Alicia knew she could no longer continue with the day's work. Choosing integrity has always been something she strove for, albeit it was never the easy path. The short conversation left her in a barely functioning state – what strength remained of her decision-making skills was used to come up with the choice of going to work early the next day to compensate for her imminent absence. To her, clocking less than twelve hours a day was a disgrace. Her stay with Lockhart-Gardner was marked by sixteen hour-workdays; she could name the few instances when she left the office on the 10th hour… all of which were followed by a trip to a bar with Kalinda.<p>

She gathered her things calmly taking her time to make sure everything was in order. Because of the novelty of the practice, she did her best to adjust and consequently take advantage of the freedom (of not having to document the minutes and hours depending on the case she was working on) to tidy up her workplace.

As she rearranged the final stack of papers, she spotted an ultra-thin camera lying on top of her files. Curiosity piqued, she reached out to grab the camera, pausing as she recognized the handwriting.

The message was cryptic and ominous.

The images that greeted her on the camera's LCD were enough to derail her from the steady train ride she took towards her own peace of mind.

In a split-second, her feet acted outside of her own volition and stormed towards the office space to which the handwriting belonged to.

* * *

><p>She entered without so much as knocking, and was greeted by a calm glance of the person behind the desk. Both waited for the other to speak; both dragged into a staring contest of whoever blinks first loses – everything.<p>

Kalinda raised her eyebrow and the lawyer took it as a cue to begin.

She turned the camera on and lightly slammed it on the investigator's desk, the LCD showing a particular private laughter she shared with Will Gardner.

Kalinda took a brief look at the picture, unfazed. She met Alicia's accusing stare squarely, without so much as blinking. Alicia waited for the younger woman to explain, to even pretend to know how much anger is brewing inside her. Finally figuring she won't get anywhere, she started speaking.

"You've got some nerve." She surprised herself with the calmness in her voice. "First, you slept with my husband. Then you chose to hide it from me." Kalinda stared back at Alicia, expression remaining neutral. If the lawyer looked deeply, there was peace in the investigator's expression.

_Then you kissed me… back. Then you paraded pretty young things in my face and you never exerted so much of an effort to make it up to me. _

"And then this." She pushed the camera lightly for emphasis, the picture disappearing to the desks' dull surface.

"You have no right."

Alicia wanted to ask more, craved to find out who else knew, desired to see a hint of emotion from the other woman; but she turned her back and went on to leave.

"You're right. I am sorry." Alicia almost wheeled around at the sincerity of Kalinda's voice – it was something she had never heard before. Deciding against her instincts, she pretended to not have heard the other woman's apology.

She grabbed her things from her office and headed home.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Alicia woke up with renewed vigor. The previous day, she went to pamper herself at a high-end salon she didn't normally go to. On a monthly basis, she contented herself to driving at a middle-class mall near her place to have her hair trimmed. Yesterday was both a reward and an indulgence – a much-needed break from the mess she has spiraled into.<p>

She finally had the talk with Will, without needing to confide in anyone. She also had mastered speaking with Kalinda without transforming into a flaming ball of fury or rushing into the arms of the other woman to kiss her senseless. She just might be able to stand on her own two feet without complications and unnecessary entanglements.

She fixed herself up without the telltale tic of having remembered a particular painful memory. She felt invincible as she slipped on a red dress.

She knew that the color was not appropriate in a conservative environment, but she knew she could soften its effect with a black blazer and black pumps. She couldn't bring herself to change back to muted colors. No. That was the weak Alicia's default.

It was time to don her armor so she could never break down again, be swayed by cheap ego boost or painfully delicious mystery of leather and boots.

Red was necessary for her survival to color her ashen entrails.

She has bled for love. She was exsanguinated by her pride.


	8. Chapter 8

*Accelerates to beat the deadline...*

**Chapter 8**

Running was always her coffee. Over the years, she had spent time searching for a longer, more winding path that would make her workout more complex. She had been steadily running half-marathons for decent and progressive durations.

Today, Kalinda did another half-marathon run in less than an hour and a half – and she remained sluggish. She had almost called Diane for a day off work, when she received a message from the other partner requesting her to report early for work because she needed to attend a client meeting.

Luckily, she was a quarter through her once-in-a-blue moon cup of coffee, and she was on her way to her functional-awake state. She barely slept the night before. In between getting used to the thoughts of Alicia forming in her mind without being reduced to a sentimental food and redirecting Katarina's sexual advances to a more wholesome contact, Kalinda had her hands overflowing with unwanted activities.

The previous day, she had almost flat-out told Lana that she couldn't really commit. Because actions speak louder than words, the FBI agent simply left with a much deeper understanding of Kalinda's persona. And although Kalinda suggested that they see each other casually, the FBI lady remained seemingly unaffected. Though there wasn't an actual rejection of the proposal, Kalinda took it to mean as a near-impossible future.

That same night, she took her lonesome ass to a night club famous for being the hangout of people looking for one night dalliances. She never as much as hoped to get picked up – all she wanted to prove was the contrary. But being true to its notoriety, in less than five minutes, she had been bought five drinks by five different people. She never touched the drinks, aware of the implication.

After an hour and twenty more rejected cocktails, Kalinda prepared to leave. Outside, she saw a fine-boned woman with blond hair and blue eyes smiling at her suggestively. Her features gave out hints of Eastern European ancestry but her accent revealed that the woman spent most of her childhood in Liverpool.

Katarina – as she found out the woman's name to be – was on her way inside. The woman hesitated as soon as she saw the East Indian investigator, took her chance to approach Kalinda, and the rest was history.

* * *

><p>The history was short-lived at least that was what Kalinda thought.<p>

They both went to a nearby bar to each have their fill of alcohol. She ordered a bottle of beer and Katarina unsurprisingly asked for a glass of margarita. _Surprisingly_, the investigator was more interested in talking than kissing.

After their second heated kiss, (which was maintained within the 40-degree-celsius range) Kalinda pulled back and smiled. Katarina leaned over to continue the assault on Kalinda's lips, just as the investigator continued her rambling.

"Merchant Ivory has always produced classically poignant films that I liked, but I am partial to the romance of Italian cinema. You said that you've watched _The Golden Bowl_, right?"

Katarina frowned and backed away.

"We didn't go her to talk about films, did we?"

Kalinda shrugged. The blonde took it to mean a cessation of film-talk and she grabbed the side of Kalinda's face to prevent the investigator from moving away. They shared another unprogressive kiss that Katarina finally broke after a few seconds.

She smiled as she wiped the investigator's lips. In less than a minute, Katarina fished out a hundred-dollar bill, left it at the bar and quickly walked away.

Kalinda just sighed in relief as she fingered the calling card the other woman slipped in her bra strap a few kisses ago.

* * *

><p>As she drove to work, Kalinda's recollection of the past twenty four hours hadn't stopped. She didn't realize that she was driving at 30kph and that cars were breezing past her. At one point, a biker even overtook her and accelerated to beat the red light. Nothing short of an accident could redirect Kalinda's attention. She was lucky to have invisible and protective force field about her that she was left unharmed. She drove on autopilot; had her routine been changed, she would have probably found herself outside an apartment complex where Alicia was transforming into a femme fatale.<p>

She parked at the spot furthest from the elevator banks. She wanted the walk that would aid in becoming less absent-minded and more alert. She turned off the ignition and allowed herself a few more minutes of distraction.

* * *

><p>Lana Delaney visited her office the previous day, and she had been forward – and more. It started with an early morning voicemail reminding her to eat her breakfast, and that because the FBI agent wasn't around, she simply needed to be more creative. Kalinda knew that the seductive voice was used to cover up the real message behind the teasing.<p>

It was confirmed when Agent Delaney arrived at Lockhart-Gardner, carrying a very expensive-looking plastic bag.

"Lunch. Made by a talented chef – me. _Rack_ of lamb," she whispered suggestively, emphasizing the third to the last word.

Kalinda smirked at the remark and led Lana to the office.

As soon as the door closed, Lana wasted no time in approaching Kalinda, softly touching her cheek on the process. She just smiled as she removed the agent's hand away from her.

"Lana. What are you doing?"

"What? Is it wrong to touch you?"

"No. It is what it'd mean to you if I allowed you to touch me that way."

Lana dropped her hand and nodded.

"Look, Lana…"

"No, Kalinda. I know. And I understand. I am sorry for even suggesting it."

The agent turned away to leave.

"We can still hang out…"

"Let me think about that." Lana never heard Kalinda's response as the door sealed her words in.

* * *

><p>Yesterday's conversation with Alicia surprised her. The usual need to explain herself was absent. There was just the intent to listen, to allow the other woman to vent. Perhaps it was because she knew that she wasn't to blame. Perhaps because it was the first time in a long time that words were exchanged between the two of them.<p>

She accepted Alicia's reaction – however subdued it was.

She would've wanted so much to proudly say it didn't drive her into another woman's arms, but she, for all intents and purpose, did exactly that with Katarina.

She sighed loudly in her car, her breath mingling with the slowly dissipating heat from the air conditioner; the sound travelling far, but not reaching anyone's hearing. She looked at her rearview mirror to check that her makeup and appearance are in order. Another beep from her phone and she opened her door, and stepped into the light of normalcy.

* * *

><p>Her step had always have the same rhythm: a passionate and solo rumba – the dance of an emotion she had never felt, not until Alicia came along.<p>

Now, the lawyer – the lawyer had a different beat altogether: a nervous but very promising flamenco. Kalinda had witnessed it so many times; the hurried shuffling, the perfect squaring of the shoulders. She lacked the pride of a Spanish woman, but the grace at which she moved rivaled a host of flamenco dancers.

That day, Kalinda's steps stopped becoming the lonely and inviting rumba. It slowly transformed into the snapping of castanets to accompany the rhythm of the woman who wasn't there.

She hardly noticed the change. She just knew she had to hurry towards the closing doors of the elevator. A thought chasing her to be processed sometime when she could finally allow the harsh light of truth shine upon her.

* * *

><p>The harsh light came to her literally as the elevator doors opened and she was flooded n brightness from the newly-replaced pin lights in the reception area. Her pupils constricted to filter light properly, aided by the uncontrollable, rapid blinking of her eyes. The result was strobe light-like rendering of the images before her, memories of yesterday's conversation with Lana and Katarina seeping through her unfocused vision.<p>

There was the reception desk, Katarina's smile, Lana's frown… all in steady but staccato flashes. As she stepped out of the elevator, she saw a black and mostly red blur whisking past her. A familiar scent made her look up – and that was all she needed to do to get rid of her visual spots.

There she was – gypsy woman and her flamenco stride: now complete with the confidence she had always lacked. Kalinda stared in rapt admiration feeling a huge swell of pride blossoming in her heart.

_She finally has it._

The fact that the lawyer's swagger meant she no longer needed Kalinda's protection didn't matter. After the years of being a pushover, her Alicia finally found her groove. She smiled thinking she had a lot to do with that.

Behind her, as the elevator doors came to a close, the thoughts finally caught up with her.

* * *

><p>However jumbled and disturbing her epiphany came, Kalinda could only revel in the freedom of having finally seen how things were: that she was a being capable of love.<p>

It was compassion that made her act the way she did with Lana and Katarina. It was her love for herself that made her stop from going on a steady spiral to her own ruin: the drinking, the womanizing, the constant denials.

In life, there are realities and defensive delusions. She has lived in a delusion where she piled and stacked bricks to build a fortress where nobody could come in.

Now, all that was left was the present… and although she wouldn't just break into a blabbering oracle of truth and breakthroughs, she still saw the value of being related to reality.

Yes. She is someone who can still love.

It was love that allowed Alicia's rants; love that wanted to protect Alicia; the same love that relinquished the desire to shelter the woman: to just allow; love that brought her such happiness in seeing the transformed Alicia.

Love and Kalinda. She chuckled.

_Now who would have thought?_


	9. Chapter 9

I have set myself a deadline I may not meet. At least before the premiere, keep my story in mind.

Thank you, Givit2me – you are keeping me going.

**Chapter 9**

She was Lara Croft. Lara Croft in heels. Lara Croft in heels and a red dress. Lara Croft whose guns were replaced by a briefcase and tons of files to fight off bureaucrats… well, some of them at least.

Yesterday, she had shed her pinafore-wearing persona and replaced it with a gun-toting, tough heroine façade.

No. She was Trinity.

Lara Croft had overt sexuality she should avoid under the circumstances. Trinity was tough yet sophisticated.

On second thought, Trinity needed Neo. And she was almost certain Lara Croft had found a love interest somewhere.

She was her own heroine – changed; and had she been a fictional character of some RPG: revolutionized.

After having spoken to Will, she felt her freedom expanding. As for Kalinda, her latest antics showed Alicia that she was not going to change. Stalking her was just low… and a little desperate. She tried to withhold the smile forming at the corners of her mouth as she realized the investigator was desperate.

She was Lara Croft and Trinity sans partners. And she had a new role, a new office.

Everything was going to be good.

-o-

Her new office had a spectacular view of the city. It was perhaps four times the size of her old office and just as much of a space as she was entitled to. After everything that had happened to her, and after all the effort she had put in, she felt it was time that she was given what she truly deserved.

The place was well-lit, well-decorated, albeit in a generic way. The layout was something she had seen in Diane Lockhart's office, the texture of the walls and the shapes of the décor represent the firm well, but not one of them as much as whispered Alicia's personality. It was hurried, efficient and to a certain degree, satisfactory.

Maybe in the future she could bring in a few items, but that was way past the present time. She looked at her desk and touched the framed photographs of her children. That personalization was enough for the time being.

-o-

She couldn't pinpoint exactly what was causing her behavior, but that day, everything was effortless. Never had her penmanship have a lovely loop, or a boastful embellishment of cursive writing (an exceptionally long crossing of the "T;" a soft slashing for the "I;" a carefree arcing of rounded letters). But today, her notes had the feel of someone signing innumerable checks for hundreds of thousands of dollars; her wrist flicking exaggeratedly (and a tad unnecessarily). That morning, she vowed that she would not let anything affect her. It started with her wardrobe choice: a bold color barely camouflaged by the setting gloom of her blazer and shoes. Her hairstyle of course, would warrant a lot of reactions, the brunt of which are whispering, ogling at her pretty face. One particular intern couldn't resist as he peeped in her office, a boyish grin plastered across his face.

"Mrs. Florrick. Wow! I mean… Wow!" he gushed.

Alicia simply looked at him, expression less sunny and more steely. The intern simply gulped and cleared his throat, visibly flustered.

The new Alicia didn't have time for niceties… maybe a once in a blue moon compliment would be given to those who deserved it. Overall, she would keep her semblance of peace intact.

She stood up and gathered her things for a hearing she was scheduled to attend. On her way out, she once again ran into a curious and smirking Eli Gold.

He opened his mouth, wanting to talk and Alicia paused, totally in control.

"You seem different," he began.

She just smiled as she rolled her eyes.

"Where are you are you going?"

"Court," came Alicia's curt reply.

"Why?" Eli asked flatly.

"I'm a lawyer."

"Okay…" Eli said sarcastically. It was obvious that his time to talk to Alicia and come clean wasn't at that moment.

-o-

For the whole day, her rhythm did not hiccup or stutter, not even once.

When the prosecution witness tried to obfuscate the jury with his neither-here-nor-there answers, Alicia was quick to call him out. The ASA assigned to the case could only shake her head and touch her forehead in veiled annoyance.

When Will touched her hand that rested against the mahogany armrest of her chair, she just looked at him and at his hand pointedly as she moved hers away.

When Kalinda entered, lovely, in a purple see-through top and her usual patent leather boots and black skirt, she decided to look away lest her resolve wavered. At one point, she felt the in-house's eyes boring through her skull, her blood red dress and her perfect coiffure. The surge of heat and energy stopped only when she distinctly heard the doors of the courtroom shut.

She was winning – the thought caused her to snort loudly, making the judge ask if there were any objections. She shook her head slowly, careful not to confuse anyone with her sudden actions.

She listened intently to the cross-examination, pleasure spreading in her iris…. The ASA didn't know it, but she had dug herself a grave so deep, Peter would make her second chair on all proceedings during his incumbency. Her own closing argument would need a few words; even with little persuasion, the firm would win the case.

"Nothing further, your honor," the ASA said dramatically.

"The defense rests, your honor," she stated in monotone.

_Let her believe she has the case._

"The court is adjourned. We will reconvene at o-nine hundred hours," the judge pounded his gavel officially signaling that the trial was over for the day.

Will stood up abruptly and shook Alicia's hand.

"Good work. See you tomorrow." She simply nodded her agreement. She reached out to her client and rubbed her forearms comfortingly. The other woman smiled tightly as the bailiff led her back into the chambers.

-o-

On her way back to her office, Alicia almost forgot reminding herself of the perceived peace she was experiencing. It was at that time when she lowered her guard that she was caught unawares by the man sitting in her pristine office.

Eli Gold looked up as the heavy door swung open, the change in atmosphere cluing him in as to the arrival of someone else.

Alicia strode to her desk, dripping her briefcase to the side.

"We have to stop meeting like this, Mr. Gold," she said as she sat down on her well-cushioned seat.

Eli smiled curtly, choosing not to correct her with her choice of formality.

"You and Peter…" he began, selfishly choosing the first order of business that would affect him.

"Have separated. If you're worried about us divorcing, please relax. It's all up in the air," she finished.

Eli nodded. "We have plans for him, and truthfully, we need you."

Alicia looked at him levelly, "I am aware of that. I haven't spoken to him, but I am willing to be civil, to keep up with appearances… for the kids."

"That's good to know." Eli said sincerely, not meeting the lawyer's eyes.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Gold?" she inquired, impatience barely coating her voice.

"Uhm, just one more," he looked up to Alicia, a strong sense of pride emanating from his stare. "I'd like to apologize."

Alicia was taken aback by the man's candor.

"It's okay, Mr. Gold. I appreciate your honesty. I would've expected it sooner, had you been anyone else. But being you, I would not have counted on it at all."

Surprise registered on Eli Gold's expression.

"I am not talking about…" he shook his head and gestured absently, as if erasing the last few words he just said. "Yes, I am sorry for forcing you… and your family to put up with the things I asked you to…" he hesitated, "put up with." He inclined his head thoughtfully at the last few words.

"But more than that… I apologize for the selfishness."

Alicia cocked her head sideways, not understanding the message.

"I guess Kalinda told you…" Alicia's ears pricked upon hearing the name.

Her face remained black as the man went on.

"Anyway," he laughed mirthlessly, "I had you and Will followed after I learned of your separation. But I know now that I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry. My contact said there was nothing to be worried about anyway… so… I'm glad. But… I'm still very sorry." Eli blurt it out all at once, not allowing Alicia to interrupt.

A minute or two had passed without a single word exchanged. After another minute, Alicia shook her head disbelievingly.

"You… spied… selfish…ly…" And with that, the rhythm of her day was disturbed. "You…" Alicia breathed in, collecting all atoms of control she could muster. She straightened up to look at Eli in the face.

"Mr. Gold, you are a very valuable client of this firm, and know that I would respect that."

Eli smiled brightly.

"I am too much involved, too much of a professional to just drop and forcibly stir up what partnership we," she gestured absently, "have established. But you have crossed a dangerous line," she met Eli's stare coldly.

"In as far as meeting your… requirements, I would, as a professional, adhere to your wished," Eli nodded, smiling at the lawyer's words. "I have to remind you that you have more than toed the line, Mr. Gold. I'd make sure to phrase any requests involving Peter accordingly. You have lost that… charm," she said loosely, "on me."

Eli stood up and looked at Alicia in the eye. The gleam in each others' eyes becoming an unspoken agreement on boundaries and roles.

-o-

The thing about anticipation is that it always gets jinxed.

Barely twelve hours ago, Alicia made sure she was prepared for any obstacle she might encounter. Watching and waiting for it made her less aware of what was happening at present – and her biggest slip was something that had happened not because of her vigilance, but because of her paranoia.

_Kalinda._

_Was not responsible._

_I was wrong. So wrong._

Upon Eli's departure, she sank into her seat, confusion sucking her deeper into her chair. Her mind was on hyper drive, not knowing, not prepared to take the implication of what Eli had just told her.

Of course him doing something like that was, to a certain degree, expected – the moral compass of the man would always go haywire when it came to protecting his clients and his own reputation.

But Kalinda.

She couldn't even begin to fathom where she went wrong.

She already knew that her displaced anger was exaggerated and she had seen the investigator suffer through her wrath and her evil ploy of getting back at her. More importantly, she passively lashed out on Kalinda for something that the woman didn't do.

For the first time that day, Alicia lost control. She hid behind the desk. She first made sure that the blinds were tightly shut so no unwanted soul would as much as breeze in.

She sat on the floor and leaned against the sturdy frame of her new desk. She stared into nothingness for what appeared to her to be an undeterminable amount of time. She merely concentrated on her breathing as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

She loves me.

She knew the realization was too late – knew that there might not be anything that could be done to repair the broken relationship.

For hours, Alicia sat undisturbed as she tried to even out her breathing and stifle the sobs that threatened to escape her throat every couple of seconds.

_She loves me._

_And I love her too._

The tears rolled freely to fill her own nearly-empty cup.


	10. Chapter 10

_**I know that a lot has happened between then and now. I am ashamed to have stopped this story when I believed it was getting to the level I wanted it to be – I guess like the East Indian heroine, I was overwhelmed. But I will strive to finish this, if not for myself, for all the Kalicia-shippers out there who are feeling quite hopeless with what has been happening for the past few episodes. **_

_**As usual, a disclaimer. I don't own The Good Wife, and all that jazz.**_

**Chapter 10**

The thing about routine, about the seeming lack of variety in one's everyday pursuits is that it could either unsettle you – leaving your energy in a constant agitated state, or it mights bury you in a state of apathy and you will just realize one day, that time just flew by.

Kalinda was in neither state. She existed without resenting the commonplace. She didn't count the days and nights that passed y. All she knew was the presence of days when Alicia looked at her with an unreadable expression and interacted with her with surprising civility. All she felt was the void of the nights when she'd go to a liquor store to buy her own whiskey so she could (closely) get inebriated alone.

But there was no sadness. No sense of ennui. It was simply a sense of existence, of getting nourished, of inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide and all of the scientific reducings of the romantic motions of life.

It was a tolerable way to live. The lack of complications was refreshing: it was as if Leela died the second time and Kalinda was reborn.

-o-

The night was a painting of an uninspired master. Or it could've been a knock-off of a masterpiece – Kalinda wasn't sure. Her pen felt rounded and thin between her fingers, and the sheets of her notebook were smooth – almost too fine, but her tactile sense was programmed to be comforted by the absence of anomalies.

She had been in her office for hours. The last person who bade her goodbye left more than an hour ago. Being alone in her room gave her a sense of peace. Plus, this meant that she could finally play her smooth jazz playlist at a volume she normally wouldn't have done. Boots shed a few tracks back, Kalinda stood up and stretched; hips, waist, spine, torso, neck, legs, arms, shoulders alternately contracted and relaxed in tune with the music.

To anyone, Kalinda was dancing.

And dancing was exactly how Kalinda appeared under the intense stare of Alicia Florrick.

That afternoon, her decision to take the first step to steer their relationship back to friendship came along with the realization that Kalinda has always been there to look after her.

She had won three cases in a row, all with pivotal evidence that seemed to have miraculously fallen on her lap. On her third win, she found out through an oblivious Will Gardner that Kalinda had been supplying the evidence. They never came in the usual form that Kalinda used to do – it was always through a carefully laid-out puzzle that Alicia had to piece together.

The thoughtfulness touched her, and the apparent fear at which Kalinda presented the help made her extra guilty. After her talk with Eli, Alicia felt the desire to start speaking to Kalinda again, but it was never pressing enough to come up with a plan.

Until now.

Unbeknownst to the East Indian investigator stretching luxuriously, the lawyer ordered pizza and purchased a bottle of tequila to toast the beginning of rebuilding their broken bridge.

Outside the door, Alicia played several scenarios in her head.

_A knock. Kalinda looks up, surprised. Fast forward to laughing about the past few weeks, months – she wasn't sure – ending in tears, a brief hug and a promise to be friends forever._

_**Friends. For now? I can't. Yet.**_

"_Jazz and saxophone, huh? I never knew that." Kalinda looks up, jumps even. Surprised. Fast forward to laughing about the past few weeks, months – she still wasn't sure – ending in tears, a brief hug and a promise to be friends… forever?_

_**I can't believe how nervous I am.**_

"_I thought I saw light from your office. Late night?" Kalinda looks up, surprised. But she smiles. Fast forward to laughing about the past few weeks, months – she didn't want to be certain anymore – ending in tears, a brief (maybe not quite) hug and a promise._

_**I need to get a grip.**_

From inside the room, Kalinda started getting a strange sensation that can only be attributed to being watched. She continued stretching, having seen from the glass walls who the person was. Kalinda stretched and moved while slowly turning her whole body to the doorway where the lawyer stood absently biting her lower lip.

Kalinda remembered the last time she saw Alicia bit her lower lip. It was a memory that still stirred things up inside; a stirring that no longer made her groan with longing, but sigh with happiness. The sight, the light that Alicia was standing in, all of Kalinda's regard for the comfort of clichés floated and fused with the fine rays flooding the features of the lawyer. Whatever reverie the older woman was in, Kalinda didn't have the heart to disturb. The other woman looked so lost, so ready to take flight. No matter how much the investigator wanted to drink in the moment, she recognized the immediacy of an intervention and spoke.

"Nice combination." She softened her voice deliberately to avoid surprising theother woman.

Alicia couldn't understand how she reached the threshold of Kalinda's office, when a few breaths ago, she was standing at a very derk spot. She looked up at the sound of the younger woman's voice, the words barely registering. She smiled, blinked and replayed the words to decipher the meaning.

Kalinda gestured towards the pizza box and the bottle of tequila. As if it finally made sense, Alicia nodded and brought each arm up to better show the treats she brought.

"I thought I saw light from your office and that you'd be hungry…"

Kalinda raised her eyebrows, as if waiting for a punchline.

"I guess not?"

Kalinda saw the flicker of fear and hesitation before the lawyer even spoke. As she watched the older woman turn her back, the investigator made the decision to let her guard down.

"I still have a lot to do."

Alicia stopped midstride.

"And you're right. I could eat a horse."

From where the light didn't hit Alicia's face, the telltale hints of a smile began. She backtracked, placed the pizza box and the bottle on the investigator's table and left.

Kalinda's shoulders fell. She was sure that this was the moment they'd begin talking again. She sat behind her desk and began typing once more.

-o-

A few minutes after, Alicia came back to the investigator's office, a big bowl of lime wedges and salt shaker on one hand, her briefcase slung over the other arm.

Kalinda looked up as she heard footsteps, and it was inevitable – her face lit up and her breathing stopped momentarily. The lawyer carefully placed the lime wedges beside the bottle of tequila as she looked at the unopened pizza box.

"I thought you could eat a horse?"

Kalinda wanted to say an honest and needy remark, but decided against it.

"Didn't want to start without you. It'd be rude," the investigator replied nonchalantly.

Alicia shrugged, "Had to get my stuff… and these." She lifted the bowl for emphasis. "I still have things to do too, and it's pointless to stay in my office alone. Plus, this is more…eco-friendly."

The lawyer opened the box and took a slice off, placed it on top of a paper towel and handed the slice to Kalinda.

She licked her fingers after the younger woman received the slice. Kalinda watched intently… watched as Alicia's movements cinematically slowed down, watched as the lawyer's reddened lips clamp onto the sides of her hand and sucked deeply, tongue barely darting forward to catch the dripping pizza sauce. She watched some more until way after the lawyer plopped onto the seat opposite Kalinda's, removed her stilt0like stilettos and propped her feet onto the sides of the investigator's chair.

Kalinda didn't know where it began, where her desire flared one more time, when she started wanting and needing the person sitting casually across her. She would never begin to realize why she wanted to remove the pen Alicia was holding against her lower lip and replace it with her finger or her own lips.

She simply stood up and took bottled water from her mini fridge – two of them – twisted both open and placed one near the lawyer's chair. Kalinda sat down on the chair, careful not to disturb the lawyer's concentr4ation. As she reached out for her own folder and notebook, she felt the other woman shifting; she quickly relaxed back to her seat and to her surprise, found a pair ankles resting on her lap.

Kalinda resisted the urged to reach out and touch the ankles, held mightily back to avoid giving the lawyer a relaxing foot rub.

The sense of familiarity hung lazily in the air, decorating it with crawling vines and stalks – entwining them with a renewed mutual bond.

-o-

For more than an hour, they sat comfortably with only the sound of pages being turned, the soft squeak of markers being dragged just a little too heavily against paper and the ambient cry of saxophone interrupting the silence.

Thirty minutes ago, an additional cracking sound of bottle screw being broken was heard. It was followed by the short sloshing of liquid into a hallow glass, the tapping of bottle against wood, and finally, the shaking of something grainy.

Kalinda's fist appeared in front of Alicia salt scattered against the side of her hand, a shot glass following closely behind.

Alicia licked without question as she reached out for the shot glass. As soon as the liquid disappeared into her mouth, a lime wedge appeared within her range of vision. She grimaced as the liquid stung in her throat. Kalinda waved the lime wedge across her face as though reminding her that it was the solution to the unpleasant sensation creeping on her skin.

Alicia grabbed – hard. She clutched onto Kalinda's arm and moved her mouth towards the acidic fruit. She pushed the investigator's arm against her mouth so she can suck onto the lime deeper.

Kalinda just stared, eyes alternately clouding and clearing as an internal debate began taking place.

The part that made her pop the almost dry lime wedge into her mouth so she can suck it drier still won the small conversation. It was the same part that spread salt onto the surface that the lawyer's tongue just travelled; the same part that commanded her lips to touch the spot that still bore hints of Alicia's lipstick.

It continued for half an hour more, each offering the other's salted wrist or fisted hand (and then revisiting the same spot that was just licked) and a lime wedge that was never held by the party who suckled.

For another half hour, the silence continued.

For that half hour, the ritual continued, bringing them closer and closer to being pronounced as one.

-o-

When the tequila was halfway finished, both simultaneously searched for something amid the paper strewn across the floor. Both laughed at the suddenness and the obvious mirroring of each other's action.

"I missed you," began Alicia smiling and staring at Kalinda with unfocused eyes.

"Me too," Kalinda echoed forlornly.

"I think I owe you an explanation…"

"You don't. Whatever you did, I understand. I am just happy we're both here." Kalinda interrupted Alicia before she could go on further.

The lawyer frowned.

In the lines that formed across her face were ideas left unexpressed: her mistake in trying to get even, her regret in allowing a part of her take over and control of her usually calm self, her gratefulness towards Kalinda, her love for the investigator, her fear of being rejected.

"I will never ask what has happened to you in the moments we weren't talking. I trust you did the things you felt like doing at that time."

The hair on Alicia's arm stood on its ends in response to Kalinda's tone. It was all sincerity and serenity.

"If you wanted to know about…me, you can ask at any point in time, okay?"

Alicia smiled as she shook her head.

"No. I am glad that we're here too."

For a few seconds, they held the silence. They smiled, sighed, reached out and caressed the part of the other that they could reach.

"It's late. I guess we'd better…" Alicia began.

"Yeah, yeah. Of course, we should." Kalinda agreed without letting the older woman finish. She started gathering her half-strewn stuff from the desk. She never felt Alicia's eyes on her as she picked up document after document of random cases she was working on.

Alicia never stopped looking, her eyes in a semi-state of focus – the only kind she can afford, given her drunken state. She was happy, she was relieved, she was ecstatic, she was calm.

It has really been a long time since she allowed herself this much view of the exotic in-house. She watched, without recognizing, that Kalinda had completely packed her own things and was slowly moving on to carefully stuffing Alicia's bag with the paperwork that had carpeted the floor.

Alicia stared on. Dreamily. Glassy-eyed. Out of love? Out of drunkenness? Perhaps a combination. It was a gaze broken by the appearance of a zipped-up briefcase. Behind it was a face smiling, rather childishly, somewhat peacefully; and beyond it, was an office, tidied-up expertly.

"Maybe it's time to leave." There wasn't even a hint of the telltale slur after having consumed that much alcohol.

Alicia managed a nod, afraid that she might lisp a "yes."

It wasn't planned. There wasn't even any control lost.

Alicia smiled. Kalinda's eyes went wide, her own smile disappearing together with the dropping of the briefcase. In a blink, the distance was closed.

For several breaths, Kalinda stood unmoving as she felt Alicia's body collapsing and clinging onto her in an embrace that was part-surrender, part pledge to stay beside her. Kalinda's head started swimming as she heard – felt, even smelled Alicia's uneven breathing. The woman's arm alternately moved and tightened around Kalinda with each breath, overwhelming the smaller woman more.

Slowly, tentatively, Kalinda's arms lifted, drawn to the languid and purposeful movement of the woman whose body enveloped her completely. With a final intake of breath, she lost control and in split-second, snaked her hands from the woman's sides and around as she met Alicia's fierce embrace equally. Kalinda's face gravitated towards the other woman's neck as she inhaled Alicia's scent. It was the smell of fire doused with cherry-vanilla cream. The way it was languorously travelling from her nose to her brain showld have suffocated her – but she breathed in greedily and drank in the moment until it suffused and she felt like she and Alicia were one. Her hands roamed around Alicia's back touching, sensing, gripping. Her hand was inching towards the hem of Alicia's top when she felt the lawyer's breath upon her own neck, travelled and tickled up until the warmth was teasing her ears.

"I missed you," Alicia gasped the words as she grabbed onto Kalinda tighter still. Kalinda couldn't speak. She just nodded and planted a chaste kiss on Alicia's neck.

Alicia stopped hugging and pulled back, just as Kalinda's stomach plummeted to the ground. She looked at Alicia's eyes and saw nothing but happiness in them.

"I love you." Kalinda felt Alicia's lips on hers, almost died with the feather-light pressure that rested, and before she could kiss her back, the lawyer pulled away once more and smiled.

Frozen, Kalinda took moments to realize that there was a hand that held hers and fingers that intertwined with her own.

Alicia gathered their belongings and handed Kalinda her own bag.

"Come on. We should go home." Alicia didn't mean for her voice to sound as husky as it did. She cleared her throat and pulled the investigator with her as she headed to the door.

"Wait."

Alicia looked back at confused Kalinda. She saw the woman breathe in, eyes never leaving her own face.

"You need to know Alicia," the lawyer saw the tears threatening to spill from Kalinda's eyes. You need to know," slowly, the East Indian investigator's voice cracked.

Alicia smiled assuredly, "whatever it is, it can wait."

"No," the tears flowed freely. "You need to know. " Kalinda took a heaving breath. "I love you." It was a whisper – the tiniest, softest voice from a usually assured woman.

Alicia stared, surprised by the vulnerability of the woman in front of her. She reached out and tenderly wiped the other's tears. She smiled for what seemed like the millionth time that night.

"I think I knew." Alicia kissed the woman tenderly once more, careful to let it remain pure. As they pulled away, it was Kalinda's turn to smile.

"What a night, huh?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm tired. I really want to go home."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Okay, I will start with an apology, yet again. I have never written a love scene in my life and I never realized how taxing it is. I applaud those who make a living out of writing erotica, those who have written more than one M-rated fanfiction before – it really is hard… but wonderful. **_

_**I pray no one gets disappointed.**_

_**Oh, and yes, again, I don't own The Good Wife. Because if I did, this has already happened. **_

_**SSJL – Thank you for your kind words!**_

**Chapter 11**

Kalinda tried her hardest to recall how she ended up in Alicia's deserted apartment. (_The kids are with Peter, _Alicia answered without being asked, and she followed it with a kiss as though to stop Kalinda from asking anything more.)

Barely an hour ago, they were inside the elevator going down to the parking lot, Alicia's hand clasped tightly to hers. It was a strange feeling, an almost out-of-body experience of feeling Alicia's soft hands, and not feeling it at all. At even intervals, she wondered whether her entire right limb was still hers, or if Alicia has stolen it, taken it as hers.

When they reached the parking lot, Alicia followed her to her car. Words failed her as she watched the lawyer climb the passenger seat. She could only hear Alicia's instructions to bring them to the older woman's apartment, could only blindingly follow the request.

Outside, the sky was dark with sleep, the heart of the city heaving with dreams of its inhabitants. Giggles from the apartment ruffled the night, silence no longer a constant.

From inside the apartment, Alicia stumbled into her room, half-dragging a still-bewildered Kalinda inside. She continued to giggle as she kissed the smaller woman. Kicking her shoes off, she slowly started unbuttoning her own blouse. She was stopped by a soft grasp from the person she was kissing. Hands clasped onto Alicia's wrist, Kalinda demanded to slow things down by pulling away from the kiss. She looked at Alicia who was still smiling.

The intensity in the East Indian investigator's gaze pulled the corners of Alicia's mouth down, a deep frown soon followed.

"What's the matter?"

The silence of the night slowly regained its hold of the city. It crawled upon Alicia's skin, leaving goosebumps in its midst.

"Kalinda?"

_This might not be a good idea._

The investigator looked deeper into the lawyer's eyes still. Without as much as blinking, she let go of her grip only to grab onto the sides of Alicia's face to pull the older woman into a kiss. Alicia was taken by surprise, her squeak muted by the force that was Kalinda.

She was afraid to hurt the older woman, but her control was shattered when she saw how the night illuminated Alicia, her skin luminous as though she was made of moonlight.

This was what she was building towards – to kiss, feel, touch Alicia Florrick.

She kissed her with the hunger of a hermit who has fasted for decades. Her tongue tasted, consumed moments contained in the flavor of Alicia's lip gloss.

Her kisses were met with the same ardor. Each swipe of the tongue, each soft bite onto the other's lower lip dissolved into everything that was them and around them.

Kalinda took over the unclothing of her muse – she made sure that with the peeling of the fabric away from Alicia's body, her hands followed to clothe the lawyer with her touch, so she will never wear anyone else's.

Kalinda's touch was gentle, soft – her fingers exhibiting their powers early on. As she trailed her fingertips on Alicia's skin, she commanded the hair to stand on their ends. The lawyer's skin prickled, Braille of what could only be spelled as desire.

Seemingly dissatisfied with the effect she has on Alicia, Kalinda began her slow and torturous assault of her tongue and mouth. The lawyer's hiss was the first she heard, followed by a soft moan.

Kalinda lightly smiled as she simultaneously licked an especially sensitive spot on Alicia's neck. The lawyer's knees buckled. She slowly walked forward, leading Alicia to the edge of the woman's bed. She knew the older woman needed to be more comfortable, knew that only a horizontal surface could support the weight of Alicia's desire; the only thing that could help support what Kalinda would do to the lawyer.

Alicia was breathing heavily as she continued to feel Kalinda alternately licking and sucking areas around her neck that produced a symphony of sighs, whimpers and moans. The older woman's head was spinning so fast that she never so much as felt the discarding of her skirt, her bra.

Kalinda stole a glance at the remaining lingerie of the lawyer. She couldn't contain herself when she saw Alicia's thigh highs; she grabbed her suddenly and nipped at the older woman's pulse point.

Alicia's knees finally fave out and she collapsed onto the bed. All she could see was a grinning Kalinda, her desire ablaze in her eyes. The East India investigator wasted no time in stripping down to her bras and panties, all the while watching the older woman watch her.

Kalinda soon lifted the lawyer's right leg, and placed it on her own shoulder, Alicia's lower leg casually draping on Kalinda's back. She fingered the edges of Alicia's thigh highs, earning the slightest twitch from the lawyer's midsection. She replaced her fingers with her lips, softly kissing the edge where nylon met flesh. She tasted the edges and quickly blew a soft breath across. She slowly rolled the stockings off, chasing it with hot, open-mouthed kisses.

Alicia twisted and panted, excitement gushing out her core.

"Ssssshhhhh…. I want this to last all night."

Alicia just nodded and moaned as she felt the tip of Kalinda's tongue barely grazing the side of her shin.

Kalinda did the same thing to the other leg, putting the older woman's senses on overdrive.

"I… I can't… please…"

"What's that?" Kalinda slithered up, nose, lips, breasts and abs touching Alicia's lace-covered crotch.

"Oh God."

Kalinda once more assaulted the already swollen lips of the lawyer, tongue slightly swiping Alicia's lower lip. The other woman's lips parted, tongue darting out slightly in search for Kalinda's. As the tips met, twisted and tangled, words unsaid flowed out, tasted and swallowed by the other. The investigator's hand roamed around Alicia's body, finally settling on cupping the lawyer's right breast. Her mouth soon followed, latching on the older woman's taut nipple.

Kalinda sucked, licked, pinched, caressed, but onto surfaces and peaks pleasurable to Alicia until the older woman sat up suddenly, grabbed onto Kalinda's wrists to get her attention.

"Please… Please…I need you," the lawyer's hips rolled, gyrated against Kalinda's thighs, panties soaked with desire.

The younger woman smiled and nodded. She kissed the other woman once more and then began her descent to where Alicia needed her most.

From Alicia's thighs, Kalinda's fingers danced up and towards the lawyer's ass. Kalinda slipped both her hands into the other woman's lace panties, cupping the perfectly rounded ass. In one fluid motion the smaller woman grabbed, lifted Alicia's bottom and with a flick of the wrist, slid the last barrier to their intimacy away.

Now fully exposed, the lawyer quivered expectantly as she saw Kalinda's eyes darken some more as she watched how moisture slipped through the crack like a natural spring to a parched Bedouin.

Kalinda was mesmerized, hypnotized. She knew she needed to taste Alicia…. Knew she needed to run her tongue in and around the woman's core as if her life depended on it.

She licked her lips.

"Alicia. Alicia, look at me."

The lawyer obliged, a hungry and tortured look evident in her eyes.

"I want you to see. You're perfect."

Kalinda's head dipped without breaking eye contact, her tongue taking the first soft swipe of Alicia's core. She couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes as she savored the first taste of the lawyer's womanhood. Suddenly, she was transported back in India, when she first visited the ocean. Becayse that was where she was, the warm ocean of Alicia Florrick, the smell, the taste, the feel of the saltiness and warmth in her mouth – it was as though she drank saltwater and the sun.

She was afraid she would spontaneously combust as her senses swirled with everything that was Alicia. She opened her eyes to look at the woman whose chest was heaving with anticipation. It was all she needed; and the goddess banished memories of those who came before her. She licked the lawyer's slick folds once more, and then again, and again, the taste slowly becoming all that she knew and needed.

Meanwhile, Alicia's world spun out of control as the younger woman lapped, flicked her tongue in her and around her; and as Kalinda sucked on her hardened nub, she almost lost it.

"I… I want… inside..." Alicia could only gasp incoherently. As two fingers entered her, she bit down the back of her hand to avoid screaming and going over the edge right there and then.

Kalinda expertly moved her fingers in and out of the woman's core, curling and twisting them to hit the spot that would drive Alicia even wilder. Kalinda's mouth joined her fingers as she continued to lap at and flick the tip of her tongue against Alicia's swollen bud.

Then it happened.

Alicia started grinding her hips against Kalinda's fingers and face, finding the long-awaited release. As Kalinda pushed in a third finger, curling it deep inside Alicia, she sucked in the lawyer's clit once more.

That was all it took.

Alicia's world exploded – she drowned and started breathing again as the sensation made everything around her contract and pulsate into a star-filled night.

As she collapsed back into the cradle of the night, she felt Kalinda move beside her, kissing her forehead tenderly. She sought the lips of the one who just made her world spin and destroyed her for anyone else. Their tongues intertwined, and the lawyer tasted herself from the younger woman.

"Never… have I… never again…"

"Shhhh…" Kalinda kissed her lips once more. "I love you, Alicia."

"I love you too."

Kalinda pulled the older woman closer to her, and buried her face on Alicia's nape. She would never desire any other smell than the one that was permeating her system.

Night enveloped them in its second skin, lulling both to sleep; each breath taken in sync with the other.

From across the city, church bells began to toll.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Goodness, I didn't realize that there were lots of formatting error - in my desire to publish rightaway.

My deepest, deepest apologies.

And yes, yes, I say my usual disclaimer.

**Epilogue or, the eyes that saw blindingly so**

* * *

><p>He drummed his fingers impatiently.<p>

She usually answered on the second ring. Four rings almost never happened. Just when he thought his call was going to be routed to voicemail, he heard heavy breathing from the other side.

"Mom?"

"Z-zach..?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, y-yeah… I just came back from my morning jog."

"Uh-huh. Dad's running late. We'll just go to school from here."

A whimper.

"Mom?"

"Y-yeah, that's fine. It's fine."

"You sure you're okay?"

An unmistakable moan.

"Mom? Am I interrupting something?"

"N-no. I'm just stretching. I had a cramp."

"Okay. If you're sure… oh, dad's here."

A guttural yes.

"See you later mom."

The phone died before a scream erupted and then flooded into a waiting mouth.

* * *

><p>He saw them at the deli across the courthouse.<p>

They were eating and laughing.

He craned his neck. There was definitely more laughing.

He pushed his way through the doors and walked towards them.

"Hey!"

"Cary." The younger woman looked at him, more than daggers in her eyes. He ignored it and sat beside her.

"So, no hard feelings, huh?"

The older woman smiled, "Cary, you and I both know you have to win sometimes."

Cary flashed his signature grin. "So, what are you having?"

He looked at the lawyer's half-finished sandwich and the investigator's empty cup of coffee.

"We're almost done, " the lawyer took another bite of her sandwich to emphasize the point.

"Come on… Let's… I mean, hey – it's on me."

The investigator smiled and dropped a twenty-dollar bill on the table.

"Maybe a raincheck. We have to be heading back."

She took the remaining sandwich from the lawyer and popped it into her mouth.

The lawyer smiled at Cary and hurried to catch up with the leather that was quickly disappearing among a river of suits.

Cary shook his head as he signaled the waiter to bring him the menu.

Outside, the two women were walking closely.

Too close for a noon in August.

* * *

><p>She has had a little too much to drink. That was why –<p>

She was surprise to see her in a bar. She was more surprised that she was alone, a newly-opened bottle of beer beside her, frost travelling the amber-colored glass.

She slid next to her.

"Fancy meeting you here."

"Donna," her surprise choked her, together with the stray drops of beer trickling down her throat.

"Kalinda Sharma is alone on a Friday night. There must be a strike among women."

She gazed at her, irony evident in her steely eyes. Stillness.

"So what are you doing here?" She prodded further.

The other woman lifted her bottle to emphasize, "drinking."

Donna nodded and signaled the bartender for two shots of vodka. The man came back and placed two shot glasses on top of wet coasters. She pushed one of them towards the other woman.

She smiled, "I really shouldn't." She pushed it back.

Donna's eyebrows shot up. "Waiting for someone?"

The investigator shrugged.

Donna noticed the hints of a blush creeping up the other woman's neck, cheeks radiating heat.

"Wow! Must be special."

They both heard heels clicking, approaching; smelled a scent that was undeniably expensive.

A body slid between them.

"Vodka? I never knew you were a vodka drinker."

"Mrs. Florrick!" Donna cried out, surprised. She watched the lawyer took the glass intended for the investigator, brought it against the lips and sipped.

"Miss Seabrook,' the lawyer smiled brightly as she placed the shot glass back to the now-drenched coaster.

"I was just talking to Kalinda here, who is being annoyingly mysterious."

"Oh."

"Thought she was waiting for someone… you know… special." She waved dismissively.

From the corner of Donna's eyes, she saw the younger woman down the rest of the vodka, saw how there was just one lipstick print with two different shades on the rim of the glass.

"Is she now?" The lawyer looked at the younger woman beside her. The investigator's eyes lit up upon meeting the other woman's eyes.

"Didn't know it was _just_ you. I mean I told her once that you weren't her type and… well…" she giggled scandalously.

The lawyer and the investigator looked at her and laughed.

"I'm sorry," she laughed with them. Guffawed. "Alcohol… but I mean, really, you're the _good_ wife."

"Am I?"

"Straight as an arrow."

"I'm sure I am." The lawyer's sarcasm slipped from surfaces soaked in alcohol.

Donna stood up," I mean I should have said she will never be your type," she lightly hugged the lawyer, her way of saying goodbye. "'Night you two."

Donna walked away, not noticing the younger woman's hand rubbing against the lawyer's back.

* * *

><p>Grace opened the door to their apartment and was welcomed by the warm scent of oils. Bacon was the most pronounced. It made her stomach growl.<p>

She walked into their kitchen, prepared to be greeted by the sight of her mother cooking. Instead –

"Oh. Hey." The person in front of her was wearing a Georgetown shirt one size too big (or maybe two) and baggy bottoms. She recognized them as her mom's.

"Hey. You want breakfast?"

Grace slipped onto the bar stool and nodded.

"I didn't know you cooked."

The other woman smiled. "I see to surprise everyone."

Footsteps.

"Grace!" A scent followed the voice. Something heavy. And floral. The one that was masked by the smell of the bacon being served in front of her.

"Hey mom!"

"Where's Zach?"

"Went straight to school."

"And you?"

"I needed to pick something up." She reasoned. She turned and saw her mom for the first time. A faded pink robe (it was nearing white, actually) hugged the older woman's frame. "Late night?" She looked at the other woman who was busily flipping pancakes.

"Always." The investigators offered a quick smile as she tucked stray hair behind her ears. "How many?" She gestured towards the stack beside her.

"Just one. I need to hurry."

She ate quickly. The two other women silently sipped their coffees.

Less than five minutes after, she jumped off the stool.

"Thanks, Kalinda." The investigator nodded and sipped more coffee.

"See you later mom!" She walked around the counter for a hug.

She saw the investigator, feet bare and relaxed against the cold kitchen tiles. _Like warm chocolate on a winter morning, _she thought_._ She pulled away from the hug and kissed the lawyer.

"By the way, you smell good, Mom."

She turned and left. On her way out, she noticed a few bottles of oils on the living room table. She picked up and sniffed one, recognized the smell as the one her mom was wearing. The bottle was empty; she turned it over and a drop fell on her finger.

She left the room rubbing the oil against her palms.

It was called eat me.

* * *

><p>It was strange to see her in the courthouse without being on the same side. Nevertheless, there she was, five foot four plus some inches from her stiletto heels. She was an enigma, as always.<p>

An enigma possibly speaking to herself outside one of the nameless courtrooms in Cook County.

_Look, I'm sorry _

She can read lips – one of the many useful skills for investigators.

_I didn't… yes, really I didn't mean it to show – again._

The other woman looked amused and apologetic – a combination she seldom saw.

_I'll try. If you weren't so…._

She approached the woman, the clack from her heels confidently announcing her arrival.

Someone stepped out from the beams, revealing the phantom the other investigator was talking to.

"Kalinda!"

The name flowed from her mouth without break, just as the other woman's hand reached out to break the speed of the phantom.

"Sophia."

"Mrs. Florrick."

Silence. The East Indian investigator's hand still clamped onto the lawyer's wrist.

"Sorry." Sophie said as she started to walk away. "Oh, you still owe me a drink from last time."

The lawyer's eyebrow shot up.

"Yeah I guess," the smaller woman said.

"You can join us." She addressed the lawyer.

"Maybe," the lawyer twisted her wrist to try to free herself.

Sophia walked away barely noticing an ugly red rash peeping from the lawyer's turtleneck shirt.

* * *

><p>"Don't bring the entire house," he quipped good-naturedly. "I wish you could join us."<p>

She was drinking a glass of wine, looking quite beautiful – especially in his eyes. She gazed at him pointedly and smirked.

"You know I've never liked camping. Not even then."

"Oh. I don't like camping either. Can I just stay here?" Grace entered the living room with a huge backpack slung across her right shoulder.

"Nice try." Peter stood up and approached his daughter. "Even if you don't like it, I hope you will – just think about it," he addressed the older woman.

"Let's see."

"So you haven't convinced her?" Zach emerged from the kitchen, a bottle of water in his hand.

Peter shook his head slightly. It was his thing.

"We'd better get moving. If we drive now, we'll be there before 10pm."

The door opened to a smaller woman, arms up, knuckles clenched, poised to hit something sturdy (she had a millisecond to stop to prevent herself from thumping the taller man's chest).

Their eyes met, shock spilling from their irises.

"Peter."

The kids stumbled into the corridor, snapping Peter out of his trance.

"Hey Kalinda!" Grace greeted her effusively, quite the opposite of Zach's cool nod.

"Hey," she shifted uncomfortably.

"Case?"

'Yeah."

"And…" he looked at the neck of a bottle sticking out of the investigator's bag. "…tequila?"

"Always a good combination."

Peter moved his head. Maybe it jerked. Maybe it was a nod.

Their switch was swift, one step out; one hell click in. In two beats, Peter was outside and the door closed behind him.

The elevator dinged. A soft thud from inside the apartment powdered the corridor, the moans evaporated from inside the room.

* * *

><p>She sauntered to the swarm of lawyers buzzing about.<p>

"Again?" she looked up to the unprogressive digits frozen over the threshold of the elevators. The ringing stopped a couple of minutes ago, but not the lines that formed on Diane's forehead and lips.

"For how long?"

"Close to twenty minutes now."

"How many times this month?"

"Third or fourth."

She nodded briskly and marched to the phone at the reception area. She reached out for the handset. From beyond the earpiece, she heard whirring – the reincarnation of something. Or perhaps it came from something else.

The people behind her cheered; some even clapped. The elevator door opened – the oven having fully baked the people inside.

They came out, waterfalls on their foreheads, breathing like runners.

"Alicia! Kalinda!" Diane exclaimed.

They looked at her (or tried to, and avoided her gaze).

"I heard that was the third or fourth time."

Silence. A barely discernible nod.

"Okay. And you two were trapped there…"

"Three of four time." The answer was squeaked, swallowed and cemented.

"We can't have any more of these." Diane paused, lips forming the thinnest of lines, eyes revealing nothing.

"Alicia, see to it that you draft a formal complaint to the owner. Both of you should sign. I will review and co-sign." She walked into her office without waiting for a response.

The two released the breath they didn't know was lodged in their throats. The lawyer's skirt slipped a centimeter, the top of her shirt flapping as she exhaled.

Inside the elevator, a button and a hook lay side by side. As the elevator reached the ground floor, they were pushed to corners, buried in dark spaces that only the blind could perceive.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, he indulged. Tonight was one of those days. Darkness. Scotch. A special spot, a certain angle.<p>

He watched the light tickling her skin. She has a special glow. Especially now. The past few days. Weeks.

Maybe months.

She picked up her phone. The caller lit up her fire.

It wasn't him.

She threw back her head, sunrays in her eyes.

He sipped his drink and closed his eyes. He didn't know for how long. Time melted in his glass.

He opened his eyes and saw another woman inside. Boots. Leather.

The woman he was watching – the owner of the desk – difted her hand and rubbed the back of the visitor.

Rubbed.

A little too closely to places… he had to wonder if he was too drunk.

His decanter bottle was still almost full.

His glass still sneered with amber-colored liquid.

In half-light, Will saw how the investigator tucked the hair behind the female lawyer's ear, hands lingering, eyes caressing.

Will saw her smile – a little too sweetly. She looked up to the other woman. He sat up.

The investigator leaned further.

Her hair covered the lawyer's face from his view.

He didn't believe it.

Until he saw her arms circling the woman's neck.

He stood up and walked towards them.

Her.

Giggling. Sighing. The touches were rubbing his hearing raw.

"Alicia."

Both of them looked.

"Will." The investigator straightened up, rested her right thigh against the lawyer's desk.

He cleared his throat.

"I'm… I'm happy for you. Two."

The investigator's eyes were pillows to his bruised self. The lawyer smiled. Nodded.

"Thank you."

Her hand snaked to the younger woman's.

From a few blocks away, the church bells tolled once more.

FIN

A/N: I guess I got a bit carried away with this one. The last chapter I thought was a good end, almost like a fairy tale, ever after kind. I didn't want to put them through unnecessary talking or conflict. They (my heart) have been through a lot. So I thought to make the people around them see (or not). I hope you like it. :)


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